The Adventures of Sherlockina Holmes
by GagaMidnight
Summary: Sherlock with a Femlock twist. No Johnlock at all. Starts with study in pink and then is different. Sherlockina is lonely and can't trust people especially men but that change when she meets John Watson. As they spend time with one another, John soon sees why Sherlock is so different from the crowd. (I suck at summaries)
1. A Study In Pink Part 1

Dr John Watson looked around the breakfa st room with a sigh. He had been staying there for a month ever since he was invalided out from Afghanistan by a bullet to the left shoulder. He had no idea how long he could cope with his PTSD he had begun to suffer from **and** continue to live in a bed and breakfast which only gave him a room for one night, and somewhere to have his breakfast. The rest of the time he had to be out in public.

Since coming back from Afghanistan he had developed a limp, and a tremor in his left hand and to try and help this, he was seeing a psychiatrist. Her solution was to write a blog about his everyday life but nothing really happened in his everyday life and he told her this a few times.

He blinked as his plate was taken away by a woman and then he got up and left. On his way out he stopped in the middle of the pavement to pay attention to a rather fetching woman, who walked passed him. He went to turn around and collided with another woman, who was on the phone.

She looked at him uninterested and went to walk on but suddenly she removed her phone from her ear and looked at him, her face still showing no sign of expression. "Forgive me." she saluted, before walking onwards as she brought the phone back to her ear.

John blinked and shook his head before shrugging and walking across the street to buy a newspaper. On the front page of the newspaper was an article about a suicide of a Sir Jeffery Patterson. John sighed, feeling immediately sympathetic towards the family.

He read the article and then began to look for flats. But everything was too highly priced in the renting section and he couldn't afford to buy one either.

And so his lack of accommodation continued.

15th December

John was sitting in with his therapist Ella who was staring at him questioningly. "Your blog isn't very active, John. Actually that's an understatement."

"I've been busy." John replied. "Very busy."

"Really? So you found a job then?" Ella asked.

"Well you've only written that I still have issues when it comes to trusting people."

"John I am trying to help you, here. If you write a blog about everything that happens to you in your life, from day in and day out. It will help you."

"How?"

"You were in the army. You were a soldier and now you've been taken from hot water into cold water. It'll take a while for you to acclimatise in civilian life and writing this blog will absolutely help you."

"But nothing at all happens in my life."

"Everything happens in your life. You just don't see it because you're not in battle anymore."

John swallowed.

John met up with a few friends he used to play Rugby with for drinks. They talked about their old days at high school, and then they began talking about John's younger sister Harriet. John would rather they changed the subject on that one. He loved his sister very much but their relationship was so poor. So very poor. He didn't know really what it meant to be an elder brother except to cover up for the outcomes of drunk behaviour. It was all he could do.

The next day he woke up with a hangover in the B&B and then he went to a nearby internet café to write up his blog. Which was basically a report of the previous night. What else could he write?

Four days later

John began making his way through a shopping centre. He was looking for a present for his sister's upcoming birthday, and in his hands was the phone she had given him. He only wished it didn't have "To Harry love Clara. xx" on it but he was grateful none the less. Harry was his sister's nickname, and after all she was manlier than John. He gave up looking and then he saw someone, waving over to him and then he heard that person call out his name.

"Watson! John Watson!"

John smiled and limped over with his newly gained stick to the man.

"Michael, how are you?"

"I am very well. Were you not in Afghanistan getting shot at?"

"Yeah."

"Why you here then?"

"Because I got shot." John replied, with a laugh.

"Oh mate, I'm sorry I didn't know."

"It's quite alright."

Michael laughed and he and John went for a coffee and donuts. "So, where are you staying? Got a flat? Hotel?"

"No."

"Oh. Bed and breakfast then?"

"Yes." John nodded.

"Can't get a flat?"

"No. London is not cheap enough."

"Yet, living elsewhere would be unbearable. Definitely not the John Watson I used to know."

"I'm not that Watson anymore though."

"Can't your sister help?"

"If I can find what pub she is in!" John snapped. Michael frowned. "Sorry."

"I understand. Why don't you share a flat and split rent."

"Beg your pardon? Who on earth in their right mind would share a flat with me? They'd have to be bonkers!"

"You know that's funny."

"What?"

"You are not the first to say that to me today."

John suddenly saw some hope. "Who said it first?"

He was led by Stamford and into a science lab in pathology. "Well this is a tad more modern than I expected. Way different back in my day."

There was only one person in there. A woman wearing a suit consisting of a white shirt, a black tie and black trousers. She didn't have mascara on but she had on eyeliner to give her eyes a dark look, which went well with her dark hair which came down in long curls, some of them almost concealing her sharp cheekbones.

She looked up and glanced at John. The Army Doctor couldn't help but feel he had seen her somewhere before and then suddenly she broke into a smile. "Ah, Stamford welcome back to the lab. I need to borrow your cellular device because mine has been confiscated."

"Confiscated?" Stamford asked.

"Yes." she replied, haughtily.

"I'm sorry I have not got it with me."

"Ah well. I have to go anyway. I'll see if Mason has his. Speaking of Mason where is my coffee?"

"If it will help I can loan you my phone." John spoke, holding his out. She smiled and walked over.

"This is an old friend and colleague of mine. John Watson."

"Thank you very much, doctor." she replied, glancing at him. "So where did you serve? Was it Afghanistan or Iraq?"

Stamford smiled as John answered her. "Afghanistan. Forgive me but…"

She gave him his phone back and then smiled. "I better get going I left my riding crop downstairs and I don't think it should go into the wrong hands."

John blinked but didn't question it, not to mention he was still trying to figure out where he had seen her before.

"Do you mind musical instruments by the way?" she asked him. "In particular violins? Or one violin."

"I don't…"

"And also sometimes I don't feel like talking at all for days and days on end. Would that perturb you in any way possible?"

"Why?"

"I think aspiring flatmates should know the negatives about each other before moving in with one another."

"Oh Michael told you?" asked John.

"No." spoke Stamford.

"Then how…"

"It was hardly a difficult deduction doctor. You've been living in a bed and breakfast for a couple of month now. Not to mention I said to Stamford or Michael as you call him that I've been struggling to find a flatmate. Now here you are doctor. Back from Afghanistan after being invalided out. You're naturally looking for accommodation. I already have a place in mind and I think we should meet there tomorrow night. I really have to be going now. Thanks for letting me borrow your phone. So very kind of you."

She was about to walk away. "I don't even know who the hell you are, your name, where we will be meeting or anything and you don't know anything about me."

She smiled, cockily. "That's where you're wrong. I know quite a bit. I can tell that for approximately two months you've been home, after being invalided out from Afghanistan. You have a brother who you'll not go to help. Maybe because he broke up with his wife, or perhaps because he's an alcoholic and that the limp you have is absolutely psychosomatic. I know a lot more than you think."

She was suddenly becoming as giddy as a girl at school getting excited for the prom. "Oh and the address is 221 B Baker Street. I'm Sherlockina Holmes but I hate my first name. So call me Sherlock. Far better. Oh and in case you're wondering where you've seen me before. I am was the one you bumped in to. Is that enough for you Dr Watson?"

"Quite." John replied.

She smiled and dashed out.


	2. A Study In Pink Part 2

At seven o'clock at night the following day John made his way up to Baker Street, where he noticed that the for was in a prime area and this worried him a bit. Flats like that didn't come with a low rent.

He stood and waited for a moment not knowing whether or not he should ring the bell for 221 B so he knocked the door and waited.

A few seconds later he heard a taxi pull and he looked to see Sherlock step out of the cab, looking very different from the previous day in the lab. Her curly hair hung over her left shoulder and instead of a suit, she was wearing a purple blouse and a pencil skirt with high heels. The blouse barely covered her shoulders and John shook his head ready to comment on it. If Harry had ever been out in the cold without something covering her arms she would have had a telling off from John and his parents; even now she was thirty. From what he had gathered she was just a bit older than Sherlock. It made John wonder if Sherlock had family to do that. Before he could comment however Sherlock spoke.

"Doctor Watson, so very pleased you've come." Sherlock said, softly. She showed no signs of being pleased except for her charming smile. She extended her hand for John to shake it and he did so.

"Miss Holmes."

"Oh please call me Sherlock. My formal address is so droll." she replied. "So what are your thoughts on the area?

"Prime area. Probably expensive."

"Don't worry Dr Watson; Mrs Hudson - the landlady - and I have managed to work out a special deal."

"She gave you a deal?" John asked curiously. Who would give such a madwoman a special deal and why? John had to wonder. Sherlock looked at him for a moment as a smile appeared broadly on her face. It was a wonder to John that her cheekbones didn't cut her skin.

"Well you see Mrs Hudson's husband had found himself on death row a few years ago; sentenced to death. I naturally was able to use my talents and assist in the situation."

"Wow, you stopped her husband being executed."

Sherlock laughed suddenly, making her seem like a teenager. She shook her head and looked at John. "No, I ensured it Dr Watson."

The door opened suddenly and whom John assumed to be Mrs Hudson appeared. "Sherlockina my dear."

Sherlock hugged Mrs Hudson and corrected her name. _"Wow she must have loved her husband!" John thought sarcastically._

Sherlock introduced John to Mrs Hudson, who then told them both to come in. He followed Sherlock upstairs who kindly waited on him to reach the top and then she opened the living room door and showed him the living room.

"Wow, this is a brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. Very nice."

"But we should get this rubbish cleared out." John continued just as Sherlock said "It's what I thought so I moved in."

They shared a glanced. "I'm sorry, it's in a clutter I can fix it and tidy up….a bit." she replied before putting a knife into letters on the mantelpiece. John looked over to what looked like a skull on the mantelpiece. His medical knowledge told him right away that it was real.

"That's a skull." John pointed out, with his walking stick for added effect. Sherlock's smile wiped off her face as she explained. It was somewhat sad her expression. But he couldn't be sure.

"Oh that's my friend." she replied. Before John could apologise Mrs Hudson walked in.

"What do you think, Dr Watson? There's another room upstairs if you'll be needing two bedrooms."

"Of course we'll be needing two." John replied. Mrs Hudson must have thought that him and Sherlock were in a relationship.

"Oh don't worry love not everyone marries before they move in with each other nowadays."

As she walked into the kitchen she looked around, oblivious to John's face of distaste, and saw the mess Sherlock had made. "Sherlock, look at the mess you've made. You're as bad as a boy."

John smiled. Harry was like that too. He sat down as Sherlock cleared a small space on the table for her laptop.

"I couldn't sleep last night and I looked you up, on the internet. Google."

"Did you find anything interesting?" she replied, folding her arms and looking over at him.

"I came across your website."

"Oh?" she uttered. "Did you find it intellectual?"

"It was curious."

"Curious?"

"Well you said you could identify an airline pilot by his left thumb and a software designer by his tie."

"Your face and your leg." she replied. "Your phone."

"Pardon?"

"I could read your military career from your face and your leg and your brother's drinking habits from your mobile phone."

"And how could you do that, then?" John asked, curiously. She smirked and winked before turning around. John wished she wouldn't be so vague.

Mrs Hudson made her way in holding a newspaper. She handed it to John. "Look at those suicides. Funny that isn't it."

"Yes, it is." John agreed.

"I'd have thought that would have been your area, Sherlock." Mrs Hudson said, in the younger woman's direction.

"That's three now isn't?" John asked.

"Four. There's been a fourth. Yet something is different this time." Sherlock replied quietly. She sounded more like she was talking to herself.

There was the sound of footsteps, making their way up the stairs. John looked to see a man in a long rain coat come up the stairs, ready to speak to Sherlock.

"Where, this time?" asked Sherlock.

"Brixton, Lauriston Guardens." he replied.

"And what is new about this one? I know that you wouldn't have come if there wasn't something inconsistent."

"This one left a note. They don't normally. You going to come?"

John looked from the man to Sherlock and Sherlock to the man repeatedly.

"It depends. Who is on forensics?"

He sighed. "Anderson."

"You know that he won't work with me." Sherlock said with a sigh.

"He won't be your assistant."

She rolled her eyes. "I need an assistant." she replied.

"Are you coming?"

She sighed. "Yes. Not in the police car I'll be right behind."

"Thank you." he said, gratefully before bowing his head and leaving to go downstairs.

Sherlock suddenly smiled and took off her heels. John realised why she done that in a minute because suddenly she jumped up! "Brilliant."

She was spinning around now. "Four serial suicides and now a note; it might as well be Christmas."

She turned to Mrs Hudson. "I'll be late back Mrs Hudson, so I might need some food. If you're not busy."

"Sherlockina, how many times do I have to tell you? I'm your landlady not your housekeep."

"Anything cold will do." she replied, before turning to John. "Don't wait up John. Have a cup of tea or something or a beer. Whatever it is you do. Make yourself at home. Don't wait up."

She left and ran upstairs.

"She's always dashing about. She never stops. She reminds me of my husband. I see that you're more the sitting down type. You rest your leg now."

"Damn my leg!" John exclaimed. "Sorry this bloody thing."

"I understand, dear. I've got a hip. I'll make you that cuppa. You rest your leg."

"Couple of biscuits too, if you've got them."

"Not your housekeeper." she replied as John looked at the newspaper. He came across the photo of the detective in charge, and looked at his photo in shock before looking at his name. Detective Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard, and that was the man who came to get Sherlock. John sighed.

The door to the living room opened, and John looked up to see Sherlock. She was putting her black gloves on and she had changed from her skirt to a pair of black trousers and she had replaced her heels with a pair of boots, and finally she was wearing something to keep her shoulders warm. A long, trench coat; and to go with it - a scarf.

"You're a doctor." she noted, aloud.

"Yes."

"In fact you're an army doctor."

"Yes." John replied, before standing up and walking over to her, hoping so very much she'd ask him to go with her. He was bored and missed the action of war. Something about Sherlock told him he'd get that action back if he went with her and he was just waiting on that question.

"You would naturally have seen a lot of violence, and injuries then I imagine?"

"Yes."

"A lot of trouble, and death too?"

"Yes. Enough. Far too much for a life time. Yes."

"How would you like to see some more?"

"Oh. God. Yes!" John replied.


	3. A Study In Pink Part 3

John sat in silence in the cab with Sherlock, as the cab followed the police car to Brixton. Sherlock was the one who broke it.

"Go on."

"Pardon?"

"Well it's obvious you have questions to ask me." she replied.

"Where are going?"

"We're going to a crime scene." she replied. "Now then, what's the next question you have to ask me?"

"Who exactly are you? What is it you do?"

"From a guess what is it you imagine that I do?"

"I would say you are a private detective but…"

"Yes?"

"But private detectives don't get Scotland Yard's finest to come and collect them, to take them to a crime scene."

"To let you understand doctor; I'm a consulting detective. I am the only one in the world. I know that I am because I invented the job."

"And what does that mean for you, exactly?"

"It means that when the police are out of their depth, which is normally the case that they consult me."

John scoffed, suddenly and Sherlock looked at him. "But the police never just consult amateurs."

Sherlock looked at him, slightly taken aback and somewhat gobsmacked and then she smiled. She looked like she was resisting the urge to laugh.

"Yesterday I met you properly for the first time ever, and I asked you whether it was Afghanistan or Iraq that you served."

"How did you know about my military service?"

"I didn't know I saw."

"You saw?"

"Your haircut and the way in which you hold yourself dear doctor is that of a military soldier. But your conversation as you entered the room was rather curious. I saw you as a soldier when I first bumped into you those months ago. I had no more data until you step inside, where you made your little comment to Michael Stamford who really does prefer Mike but he won't tell you that because you're his friend and he doesn't want to hurt your feelings."

John blinked and looked at Sherlock as she continued. "Your conversation told me that you had training of some sort at Barts. Which suggests you're a doctor and therefore an army doctor; also your tan which is on your face and below your wrists alone made it a bit obvious that you've been abroad and not sunbathing. As for your psychosomatic limp? Well, that was easy. You have a rather troublesome limp when you walk and yet when you stand you require no chair. It's almost as if it's slipped your mind that you have it. So it's a least partially psychosomatic but chances are it's full on. Call it my female intuition. So your psychosomatic limp suggests that your original circumstances of your injury were rather traumatic. You were wounded while in action, then. So wounded in action and you have a suntan. Left only one thing to ask; Afghanistan or Iraq?"

John looked on amazed. His sister Harry could never do that. "How did you know about my therapist?"

Sherlock chuckled, haughtily. "Oh, dear doctor. You've a psychosomatic limp; there is no way you don't have a therapist. Let's talk about your brother."

"My brother? How did you know about him?" John asked. This was going to be interesting. Sherlock Holmes had pointed out many things about him but he made one little mistake. "

Your phone — it's expensive, email enabled, MP3 player. But you're looking for a flat-share, you wouldn't waste money on this. It's a gift, then. Scratches — not one, many over time. It's been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to me wouldn't treat his one luxury item like this, so it's had a previous owner. The next bit's easy, you know it already."

John looked at his phone and saw the engraving for his sister and he nodded. "The engraving."

"Harry Watson — clearly a family member who's given you his old phone. Not your father — this is a young man's gadget. Could be a cousin, but you're a war hero who can't find a place to live. Unlikely you've got an extended family, certainly not one you're close to, so brother it is. Now, Clara — who's Clara? Three kisses says a romantic attachment. Expensive phone says wife, not girlfriend. Must've given it to him recently — this model's only six months old. Marriage in trouble, then — six months on, and already he's giving it away? If she'd left _him_, he would've kept it. People do, sentiment. But _no_, he wanted rid of it — he left _her_. He gave the phone to you, that says he wants you to stay in touch. You're looking for cheap accommodation and you're not going to your brother for help? That says you've got problems with him. Maybe you liked his wife, maybe you _don't_ like his drinking."

"How on earth do you know about the drinking?" John asked, quite snappily. The drinking was a touchy subject.

"It was a rather bit of a shot in the dark, actually but a rather good shot in the dark. The power connection has tiny scuff marks around the edges. His hand was shaking when he went to plug it in every night to charge. Never see those marks on the phone of a sober man, and you never see a drunk's without them. Well done doctor Watson."

"Well done?"

"You were right!"

"I was right? How?"

"The police never consult amateurs!" she replied, condescendingly and John could see he'd offended her with his statement."

There was a bit of silence, while John grudgingly began to think of what to say to compliment her deductions.

"That was amazing." he commented, slowly.

Sherlock's head bolted around to him and she looked shocked. "You think so? Really? Actually really?"

"Absolutely. It was extraordinary. Quite extraordinary."

"Funny, that's quite different to what people normally say."

"What do people normally say?"

"Piss off."

She removed her phone from her coat and checked a text message before put it back in her coat.

"I see you've got your phone." John spoke.

"Yes."

"Why was it confiscated?"

"To keep me out of trouble." she replied with a smirk.


	4. A Study In Pink Part 4

When John and Sherlock finally left their taxi in Brixton, Sherlock turned to John. "Was there anything that I may have gotten wrong in there?" she asked, curiously.

"You're right. Harry and I do not get along. We never have really. Harry split up from Clara three months ago and I believe they are getting a divorce and Harry is indeed a very heavy drinker." he explained, his expression praising of Sherlock but sad about Harry.

"Wow, I was entirely right. I never expected a hundred percent accuracy."

"Harry is short for Harriet."

"Harry is…Oh. She's your sister!"

John began looking around him. "Why exactly am I here and what am I meant to be doing?"

"Sister!"

"Seriously, Sherlock why am I here? Why did you bring me here?"

"There is always something!" Sherlock, said gloomily.

As they approached the crime scene tape a woman spoke in Sherlock's direction. "Hello, freak."

"Hello, Sally. How are you?" asked Sherlock politely.

"What are you doing here?" she asked.

"_I was invited." Sherlock thought_.

"I was very kindly invited by your superior, Detective Inspector Lestrade."

"Why?"

"I believe he wanted me to look around and see if I can assist his fine officer's such as yourself with the crime scene."

"Well you know what I believe?"

"_Always, Sally and I even know you didn't make it home last night." _

"I'm sorry I am afraid we must talk later. Could you please let me inside, now? Only Doctor Watson has a rather poor leg at this moment in time and standing on it makes it quite stiff."

"Thank you, Sally. Always a pleasure to have your co-operation." Sherlock said, sweetly. John didn't know how she was putting up with it. If it had been Harry that had been taking that abuse there would be a bloody nose if the person was lucky.

Sherlock went under the tape and John went to follow. Donovan finally saw him and scoffed. "Who is this?"

"Oh, I do hope the both of you can forgive me. Sergeant Donovan, meet Doctor Watson my new colleague. Doctor Watson, this is Sergeant Sally Donovan; an old friend."

Donovan looked like she was going to burst into hysterical laughter at the idea but she soon saw Sherlock was being serious; or at least believed it.

"How do you get a colleague?" she inquired, sceptically, before turning to John. "Did she follow you home or something?"

"Would it be better if I just waited?" John asked.

"Actually, John I think that wouldn't be the case. Come inside." she said sweetly but it was a sweetness that had an underlying tone of "I'll get what I want" and he had heard that tone so many times before with Harry.

Sherlock held the tape up high for him and John decided to go under it to Sherlock's side.

"Freak's here; bringing her in." Donovan, said through the walkie talkie.

"Are you alright?" John asked her. Sherlock nodded.

"I am more than alright, John. As I said before; the game is on!" she replied as Sally followed them up to the derelict house.

Am came out, dressing in a forensic suit and marched up to Sherlock. _"Ah Anderson, here we are again!" Sherlock though._

"Hello, there Anderson. Hard at work?" Sherlock asked, politely. John was beginning to get the feeling she was putting it on.

"Don't give me that!"

"Pardon?"

"Remember that you're at a crime scene! I don't want it contaminated, are we clear?"

"_Oh for goodness sake, Anderson! Do you really have to ask me that? I've more experience at them than you!"_

"_I should film Sherlock, and show Harry her as an example of how to react in certain situation." _

John awaited Sherlock's answer and like with Donovan she remained with her cool exterior. "Of course, as always Anderson. The Yard is very lucky to have something as dedicated and concerned as you. Good quality forensics."

John could tell Sherlock's lip quivered at "good quality" but Anderson failed to notice and he drew her a derisive glance.

"Is your wife away for long?" asked Sherlock.

"Don't act like you worked that out! Somebody told you!"

"Actually, I'll think you'll find that it was your deodorant."

"My deodorant?"

"Well you see it's for men." she replied, emphasising "men".

"Well of course it's for men! I'm wearing it!"

She walked up to him and whispered in his ear. "So, why is Sergeant Donovan wearing it."

As Sherlock walked passed Sally to get into the house Anderson shouted to her. "Look whatever you're trying to imply!"

"I wasn't implying anything." she replied, before turning to Sally. "I hope you weren't scrubbing the floors too much. Look at the state of your knees!"

John looked down at Sally's knees before going inside. "What was all that about?" asked John.

She led him to a where Lestrade was and gave him a blue uniform. "You'll need to wear one of these."

"Who is this?" Lestrade asked.

"He is with me." Sherlock replied firmly.

"But who is he?"

"Do I have to tell you again he's with me!?" she replied back even, firmer.

"Aren't you going to put one of these one?" John asked.

"Where are we going?" Sherlock asked, Lestrade, ignoring John.

"We're going upstairs." Lestrade replied.

They all began making their way upstairs. "I can give you two minutes." Lestrade informed Sherlock.

"Sorry I might possibly need a little bit longer. But I thank you for the two minutes all the same."

"Her name's Jennifer Wilson according to her credits, we're running them now for contact details. Hasn't been here long. Some kids found her."

They all entered the room where Jennifer Wilson's body lay. Sherlock let her eyes scan the scene before her. The world "Rache" was scratched into the floor; and Jennifer Wilson was wearing a rather ludicrous shade of pink.

John looked on and swallowed, while Lestrade stared on at the scene himself.

"Would you be quiet, please?" asked Sherlock, suddenly.

"I never said anything."

"You were thinking and it's rather...distracting."

Lestrade resumed a stance of being quiet while Sherlock kneeled to the body and began to examine everything. John watched; she didn't seem to be doing much. But in the small time he'd known her, he could tell that was not to say she didn't know anything.

"Got anything?" Lestrade asked.

"Not much."

Anderson stood just outside the door and spoke. "She's German. Rache. It's German for revenge. She could be trying to tell us something…"

Sherlock walked past the door looking at the writing with a tilted head, almost as if she was trying to see it from a different angle, and her body collided with the door and it closed over. _"Thank you for your input, Anderson." she thought sarcastically_ before winking to John.

"So she's German?

"A rather educated guess of some sorts but no, she isn't. Indeed she is from out of town. I believe she's intended to stay in London for one night before returning home to Cardiff. That was very obvious, indeed.

"Sorry - obvious?" John questioned.

"What about the message though?" Lestrade asked.

"Doctor Watson what do you think?"

"Of the message?"

"Of the body. You're a medical man."

"We have a whole team right outside." Lestrade spoke.

"I can't' understand why but they won't work with me!"

"I'm breaking every rule letting YOU in here..." began Lestrade.

"I am honoured that you are, but I am aware that is because you need me, so very much!"

"Yes, I do. God help me." Lestrade admitted.

"Doctor?" Sherlock, addressed John.

"Hm?" he replied.

"Oh, do as he says. Help yourself." Lestrade spoke before walking over to the door. "Anderson, keep everyone out for a couple of minutes..."

"Well? What am I doing here? John asked.

"I am hoping that you're helping me make a point."

"I'm supposed to be helping you pay the rent."

"With all due respect to Jennifer Wilson this is more fun."

"Fun? There's a woman lying dead."

"Perfectly sound analysis, but I WAS hoping you'd go deeper."

"Yeah..." John uttered, before beginning to examine the body. "Asphyxiation, probably. Passed out, choked on her own vomit. Can't smell any alcohol on her. It could have been a seizure. Possibly drugs."

"You know what it was, you've read the papers."

"Well, she's one of the suicides. The fourth...?"

Lestrade came back into the room and spoke to Sherlock. "Sherlock - two minutes, I said, I need anything you got."

Sherlock looked over to Lestrade. "Victim is in her late 30s. Professional person, going by her clothes - I'm guessing the media, going by the frankly alarming shade of pink. Travelled from Cardiff today intending to stay in London one night from the size of her suitcase."

"Suitcase?

"Yes. She's been married at least ten years, but not happily. She's had a string of lovers but none of them knew she was married."

"Oh, for God's sake, if you're just making this up..." began Lestrade

"_How long has he known her? Surely he knows she wouldn't makes something like this up!" John thought._

"Allow me to justify my findings then. Her wedding ring. Ten years old at least. The rest of her jewellery has been regularly cleaned, but not her wedding ring. The inside is shinier than the outside. The only polishing it gets is when she works it off her finger. It's not for work, look at her nails. She doesn't work with her hands so who DOES she remove her rings for? Not ONE lover, she'd never sustain the fiction of being single for that long so more likely a string of them."

"Brilliant. Sorry." John complimented her.

"Cardiff?

"Oh that one is obvious! Come on, people!"

"It's not obvious to me." John told her.

"_Dear God, what is it like in your funny little brains, it must be so boring." Sherlock thought._

"Her coat - it's slightly damp, she's been in heavy rain the last few hours - no rain anywhere in London in that time. Under her coat collar is damp too. She's turned it up against the wind. She's got an umbrella in her pocket but it's dry and unused. Not just wind, strong wind - too strong to use her umbrella. We know from her suitcase that she was intending to stay overnight but she can't have travelled more than two or three hours because her coat still hasn't dried. So - where has there been heavy rain and strong wind within the radius of that travel time? Cardiff." she explained.

"Fantastic." John complimented again.

"Doctor Watson, are you aware of the face that you do that out loud?" she asked.

"Sorry, I'll shut up."

"No, it's...fine." she said with a surprised gentle tone.

"Why do you keep saying suitcase?" Lestrade asked her.

"Yes, where is it? She must have had a phone or an organiser. Find out who Rachel is."

Lestrade looked shocked. "She was writing Rachel?"

"_No, she was leaving an angry note in German - of course she was writing Rachel!" Sherlock thought to herself, again. _

"No other word it can be. Why did she wait until she was dying to write it?"

"How do you know she had a suitcase?" Lestrade asked.

"Tiny splash marks on her right heel and calf not present on the left. She was dragging a wheeled suitcase behind her with her right hand, by that splash pattern. Smallish case, going by the spread. Case that size, woman this clothes-conscious - could only be an overnight bag so we know she was staying one night. So where have you put it?"

"There wasn't a case."

"Say that again."

"There wasn't a case. There was never any suitcase." Lestrade repeated.

"Suitcase! Did anyone find a suitcase? Was there a suitcase in this house?!" Sherlock called downstairs.

"Sherlockina, there was no case!" Lestrade exclaimed, using her birth name for emphasis as she began running down the stairs.

"But they take the poison themselves, chew and swallow the pills, themselves.. There are clear signs, that are visible to everyone."

"_Even you lot couldn't miss them."_

"And...?"

"It's murder, all of them. I don't know how. But they're not suicides, they're serial killings. We've got a serial killer. There's always something to look forward to."

"Why are you saying that?"

"Her case! Come on, where is her case? Did she eat it?" Sherlock asked, finally losing her patience. "Someone else was here, and they took her case. So the killer must have driven here. Forgot the case was in the car."

"She could have checked into a hotel, left it there."

"No, look at her hair. She colour-coordinates her lipstick and her shoes. She'd never have left any hotel with her hair still looking... Oh... Oh!" Sherlock, ranted before clapping her hands together.

"Sherlock? What is it, what?"

"Serial killers, always hard. You have to wait for them to make a mistake."

"We can't just wait!"

"Oh, we're done waiting. Look at her, really look! Houston, we have a mistake. Get on to Cardiff. Find out who Jennifer Wilson's family and friends were. Find Rachel!" Sherlock said before making her way downstairs.

"Of course, yeah - but what mistake?!

Sherlock ran back up. "Pink!" she replied, before running back down them.

Sherlock had left John on his own and so the poor army doctor had to make his way downstairs. When he got outside, there was no sign of the madwoman anywhere.

"She's gone!" Sally called over to him. John didn't understand why she was so bitter to Sherlock. Sure Sherlock was a bit of a mad person but she wasn't all that bad.

"Who, Sherlock Holmes?"

"Yeah, she just took off. She does that."

"Is she coming back?"

"Didn't look like it."

"Right. Right... Yes. Sorry, where am I?"

"Brixton."

"Do you know where I could get a cab? It's just er... well - my leg." he asked.

Donovan could see that John was needing to get a cab quickly and she kindly held up the crime scene tape for him. "Er...try the main road.

"Thanks." John said.

"But you're not her friend. She doesn't HAVE friends. So who are you?"

"I'm...I'm nobody. I just met her."

"OK, bit of advice then. Stay away from that weirdo."

"Why?" John asked, curious.

"You know why she's here? She's not paid or anything. She likes it. She gets off on it. The weirder the crime, the more she gets off. And you know what...? One day just showing up won't be enough. One day we'll be standing round a body and Sherlockina Holmes will be the one that put it there."

"Why would she do that?"

"Because she's a psychopath. Psychopaths get bored."

"Donovan!" Lestrade called.

"Coming. Stay away from Sherlock Holmes."

"_I can make my own decisions." _John thought.


	5. A Study In Pink Part 5

While he searched for a taxi, every phone John walked passed began to ring. He was suddenly aware of that when a café phone began to ring. Then a public telephone in a box.

He answered it with a quiet, "Hello?"

"There is a security camera on the building to your left." a voice on the other end replied. "Do you see it?"

"Who's this? Who's speaking?" John asked.

"Do you see the camera, Dr Watson?"

"Yeah, I see it."

"Watch..." it replied, and it began to spin the camera around. "There is another camera on the building opposite you. Do you see it?" he asked as it spun round.

"Mm-hm." John replied.

"And finally, at the top of the building on your right."

"How are you doing this?"

A black car suddenly pulled up on the road next to the telephone box. "Get into the car, Dr Watson, I would make some sort of threat, but I'm sure your situation is quite clear to you." the voice spoke again.

John took comfort in the fact he was sitting next to a very beautiful women, who had a blackberry in her hand. It was much newer looking than Sherlock's purple one he'd saw the madwoman have, and she couldn't seem to take her eyes off of the thing.

"Hello." John greeted.

"Hi." Anthea replied, not looking up.

"What's your name, then?"

"Er...Anthea." she replied, still not looking up.

"Is that your real name?" he asked.

"No." she replied.

"I'm John."

"Yes. I know."

"Any point in asking...where I'm going?"

"None at all...**John**."

"OK."

When John stepped out of the car he noticed a man in a three piece suit, standing just a little beyond him. They were in some sort of docking bay for a warehouse, from what John could gather.

"Have a seat, John." the man spoke, pointing to a chair with his umbrella. It was the same voice that John had heard on the phone.

"You know, I've got a phone. I mean, very clever and all that, but er... you could just phone me. On my phone." John, told him rather perturbed as he limped over to him.

"When one is avoiding the attention of Sherlockina Holmes, one learns to be discreet, hence this place. Your leg must be hurting you. Sit down."

"I don't want to sit down." John replied. "Isn't her name Sherlock?"

"You don't seem very afraid." the man replied not even answering John's question.

"You don't seem very frightening." John replied, rather honestly.

"Yes...The bravery of the soldier. Bravery is by far the kindest word for stupidity, don't you think? What is your connection to Sherlock Holmes?" he asked.

"I don't have one. I barely know him, I met her...yesterday."

"Mmm, and since yesterday you've moved in with her and now you're solving crimes together. Might we expect a happy announcement by the end of the week?"

"Who are you?" John asked, losing his patience. He was tired of people thinking that him and Sherlock were dating. She was not his type, and from the way she acted she seemed like she played for the other team but then again he couldn't be sure.

"An interested party."

"Interested in Sherlock? Why? I'm guessing you're not friends."

"You've met her. How many friends do you imagine she has? I am the closest thing to a friend that Sherlock Holmes is capable of having."

"And what's that?"

"An enemy."

"An enemy?"

"In HER mind, certainly. She's always disliked me for reasons I don't care to discuss. If you were to ask her, she'd probably say her arch-enemy. She does love to be dramatic."

"Well, thank God YOU'RE above all that." John told him straight. He heard his text alert go off and he looked at it. **"221 B Baker Street. Please, come if convenient, ASAP." **

"I hope I'm not distracting you."

"Not distracting me at all."

"Do you plan to continue your association with Sherlock Holmes?"

"I could be wrong...but I think that's none of your business."

"It could be." he said, in reply.

"It really couldn't!" John replied, firmly.

"If you DO move into, erm...221B Baker Street, I'd be happy to pay you a meaningful sum of money on a regular basis to ease your way."

"Why?"

"Because you're not a wealthy man."

"In exchange for what?"

"Information. Nothing indiscreet. Nothing you'd feel...uncomfortable with. Just tell me what she's up to."

"Why?"

"I worry about her. Constantly."

"That's nice of you."

"But I would prefer for various reasons that my concern go unmentioned, we have what you might call a... difficult relationship."

"No." John replied, just as his text alert went off again.

"But I haven't mentioned a figure."

"**Even if it's not convenient can you still come, please?" **John read.

"Don't bother." John replied.

"You're very loyal VERY quickly."

"_I won't do it! For one, this guy could be some psychopath trying to hurt her and I wouldn't like someone using a flatmate of my sister to gain information about her to hurt her and I'm sure that if Sherlock does have siblings they'd feel the same way and not to mention I would never do that period!" John thought._

"No, I'm not, I'm just not interested."

The man looked at his notebook. ""Trust issues"...it says here."

"What's that?"

"Could it be that you've decided to trust Sherlockina Holmes of all people?"

"Who says I trust her?"

"You don't seem the kind to make friends easily."

"Are we done?" John asked, before limping away to try and get to the car.

"You tell me. I imagine people have already warned you to stay away from her, but I can see from your left hand that's not going to happen."

"My what?" John snapped, turning around limping back.

"Show me." he asked, trying to examine John's hand.

"Don't..." John snapped, pulling it back.

He drew John a look and John gave in.

"Remarkable."

"What is?"

"Most people...blunder round this city, and all they see are streets and shops and cars. When you walk with Sherlockina Holmes, you see the battlefield. You've seen it already. Haven't you?"

"What's wrong with my hand?

"You have an intermittent tremor in your left hand. Your therapist thinks it's post-traumatic stress disorder. She thinks you're haunted by memories of your military service."

"Who the hell are you? How do you know that?" John asked, worried.

"Fire her. She's got it the wrong way round. You're under stress right now and your hand is perfectly steady. You're not haunted by the war, Dr Watson... You miss it." the man explained, before whispering "Welcome back."

He began to walk in the opposite direction of where the car was, making John guess that he was going home by other means. He swung his umbrella.

"Time to choose a side, Dr Watson."

"I'm to take you home. Address?" Anthea asked.

"**Could be dangerous." **Sherlock texted John.

"Er, Baker Street. 221B Baker Street. But I need to stop off somewhere first."


	6. A Study In Pink Part 6

"Listen, your boss. Any chance you could not tell him this is where I went?" John asked, when the car finally stopped at Baker Street.

"Sure." Anthea replied.

"You've told him already, haven't you?"

"Yeah."

"Hey erm... do you ever get any free time?

"Oh, yeah. Lots."

There was silence for a minute, before Anthea realised what John was getting at. "Bye!" she said, pointedly.

"OK." John replied, before leaving the car, only to walk into Baker Street's living room to find Sherlock, lying on the sofa, facing the ceiling as she clutched her arm, which has three nicotine patches.

"What are you doing?" John asked.

"It's a nicotine patch. It helps me think. Smoking is by far one of the most impossible habits to sustain in London these days. It's bad news for my brain work."

"It's good news for your breathing."

"Oh but Doctor Watson, breathing's boring."

"Is that...three patches?" John asked.

"But, doctor it's a three-patch problem." she replied.

"Well...? You asked me to come, I'm assuming it's important."

"Oh - yeah, of course. Can I borrow your phone?"

"My phone?"

"Always a chance that my number will be recognised. It's on the website."

"Mrs Hudson's got a phone."

"Yeah, she's downstairs. I tried shouting but she didn't hear."

"I WAS the other side of London..." John began.

"Oh don't worry, doctor there was no hurry."

"Here..." John replied, before handing her the phone. "So what's this about - the case?"

"Her case..." began Sherlock.

"HER case?"

"Her suitcase, yes, obviously. The murderer took her suitcase, first big mistake." she explained.

"OK, he took her case. So?"

"It's no use, there's no other way. We'll have to risk it. On my desk there's a number. Would you please send a text for me?"

"You've brought me here... to send a text."

"Oh yes please, the number is on my desk." she replied, as John looked out of the window with a funny look on his face. Sherlock looked up concerned. "What's wrong?"

"Just met a friend of yours."

"A friend?" Sherlock asked surprised.

"An enemy."

"Oh. Which one?" she asked, as though it was a normal thing.

"Well, your arch-enemy, according to him." John replied, feeling silly. "Do people have arch-enemies?"

"Did he offer you money to spy on me?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Did you take it?"

"No." John replied.

"Thank you for not taking it out of concern for me but it's such a pity, we could have split the fee. Think it through next time."

John shook her head. "Who is he?" he asked.

"He is the most dangerous man that you've ever met and at this moment in time I can't make him my top problem. That number is on the desk by the way."

"Jennifer Wilson. That was... Hang on. Wasn't that the dead woman?" John asked, as he looked at a card on Sherlock's desk with the number.

"Oh don't worry that's not important; all you need to do is put in the number."

It was only a few seconds later when she asked. "Everything okay with putting it in?"

"Yes."

"Any problems?" she asked, getting impatient. John knew she was really asking he he'd done it.

"No, Sherlock. Just hang on a minute!"

"Thank you. Could you put these following words in exactly? What happened at Lauriston Gardens? "I must have blacked out. 22 Northumberland Street, please come." Sherlock pushed John, to hurry up.

"You blacked out?" John asked, shocked.

"What? No... No! Just type and send it."

She got up and moved over close to the kitchen. "Have you sent it?" she asked.

"What's the address?" John asked.

"22 Northumberland Street. Hurry up!" she ordered, losing all her gather patience as she slammed a pink suitcase down on a dining room chair.

John looked on shocked, and gobsmacked. "That's... That's the pink lady's case, that's Jennifer Wilson's case."

"Yes, obviously. Oh, I should probably mention to you that I didn't kill her."

"I never said you did."

"Why not? Given that text and the fact I have her case it's a perfectly logical assumption."

"Do people usually assume you're the murderer?"

"Well, now and then, yes." she replied, with a smirk.

"How did you get this?" asked John sitting across from Sherlock.

"By a simple act of looking for it, and knowing where to look for it."

"Where?"

"Well let's look at this way. The killer must have driven her to Laureston Gardens. He could only keep her case by accident if it was in the car. No one could be seen with this case without drawing attention to themselves, particularly a man which is statistically more likely believe me I should know about the reaction."

A smile appeared on her face suddenly, and John couldn't help but wonder if she was recalling an entertaining memory.

"So obviously he felt compelled to get rid of it the moment he noticed he had it." she continued. "Wouldn't have taken him more than five minutes for him to realise his mistake. I checked every back street wide enough for a car, five minutes from Laureston Gardens and anywhere where you could dispose of a bulky object without being observed...It took me less than an hour to find the right skip!"

"You got all that because you realised that the case would be pink."

"Well it could only be pink. Isn't it obvious?"

"Why didn't I think about that?" asked John.

"Well that might be because you're an army doctor and not a detective." she replied, saving him from insult. "Now, then do you see what's missing?"

"From the case? How could I?" John asked.

"Her phone? Where's her mobile phone? There was no phone on the body. There was no phone in the case. We know she had one. That's her number there. You just texted it."

"Maybe she left it at home?" suggested John.

"I can see where you're coming from but you must take into account that she did have a long line of lovers, and that would naturally mean she would never leave her phone at home."

"Then why did I just send that text?"

"Well the question is where is her phone now?"

"She could have lost it?"

"Yes, she could have... Or?" she asked, testing John.

"The murderer...Do you think the murderer has the phone?"

"Maybe she left it when she left her case. Maybe he took it from her for some reason. Either way balance probability is the murderer has her phone"

"Sorry...what are we doing? Did I just text a murderer? What good will that do?"

John's phone began to ring.

Sherlock smiled and turned to it. "It's been a mere few hours after his last victim. If someone had just found that phone in street then they would just discard a text like that, but the murderer would not be able to and he'll do one thing."

"What?" John asked, curious.

"Panic!" she replied, before closing the lid of the suitcase over. She stood up and began putting on her coat and scarf.

"Have you talked to the police?" he asked, believing that she mad enough to go and take on a murderer on her own.

Sherlock was about to being thinking a polite way to insult the police but she realised that there no point being false with John so she just came out with it. "Four people are dead; do you honestly think we've got time to talk to the police?"

"So why are you talking to me?" John asked, wondering how he would be above them on those priorities.

"I believe Mrs Hudson has taken away my skull, and I've lost someone to talk to."

"So what you're saying is I am filling in for your skull who is your dead friend?"

"Well I never personally knew the person that the skull came from, in real life. Our friendship came when I got him. And relax you're doing a wonderful job, Doctor."

"You can call me John you know."

She smiled. "Well?" she asked.

"Well, what?"

"When I leave the comforts of my flat I like to have company. I think better when I talk aloud to someone, and sadly my skull attracts a lot of attention. But if there's a problem?"

"Maybe…"

Sherlock looked at him, waiting on an answer.

"Sergeant Donovan."

"What has dear old Sally been spouting about me this time?"

"She says that you enjoy this…that you get off on it."

"Says the man who I told that danger could be around and yet he still came at my demand."

"Damn it!" John exclaimed.


	7. A Study In Pink Part 7

As John walked alongside Sherlock in the street, he began to wonder where they were going. "Where are we going?"

"It's but a mere five minute walk to Northumberland Street from here." she explained, looking somewhat preoccupied by thoughts in her own mind.

"So you think he's actually stupid enough to go there?"

"No, John I don't think he's stupid enough to go there. I do believe that he's brilliant enough to go there. You have to appreciate the desperate ones. They are all so desperate to get caught. They desire the applause and their long awaited moment in the limelight. It's what makes being a genius so fragile. It needs an audience!"

From the way Sherlock spoke, John could see how much Sherlock understood the need for an audience. Harry never needed to worry about not having an audience. Sherlock, wanted appreciation which made John wonder if Sherlock was an only child with no elder, or younger sibling to show off to.

"Now that we know the victims were abducted it changes our objectives."

"_Our objectives?! Is she seriously involving me?"_

"Take a look around you, John. We're in the very centre of London . It's his hunting ground! Who hunts in a middle of a crowd, while passing unnoticed wherever they go? Who do we trust even if we don't know them?"

"I am not sure, who?" John asked.

"I have no idea." she replied, before stepping inside a restaurant. She thanked a man at the door named Billy for showing her to a table at the window, before removing her coat and sitting down.

She nodded to John to look across the street. "22 Northumberland Street, you should keep your eyes on it."

"He's not going to ring the doorbell; he'd have to be mad!" John, argued.

"Bearing in mind the fact he has killed four people!" Sherlock, replied.

A man approached Sherlock and put his hand on her shoulder. "Sherlock! Anything you want on the menu, free for you and your date. On the house."

"Would you like to eat, John?" Sherlock asked, him.

"I am not her date!" John defended.

"This beauty got me off a murder charge!"

"This very complimentary man is Angelo. Scotland Yard made a little mistake, but I was able to prove to dear Lestrade that at a time of a rather viscous triple murder, Angelo here was in another part of town; housebreaking!"

"She cleared my name!" Angelo, praised with appreciation.

"Sadly it was only a little bit." Sherlock, replied. "Anything happening opposite, while I wasn't here?"

"Nothing." he replied before turning to John. "But if wasn't for your girl I'd have gone to prison."

"But you did go to prison, Angelo!" Sherlock replied. John was getting a bit annoyed by the accusations.

"I'll get a candle for the table; it's more romantic!"

"I am not her date!" John said, firmly.

"Have something to eat, John. You never know we could be waiting here for ages."

John began eating bread sticks. "Thanks."

There was silence as Sherlock watched across the street intently.

"People don't have arch enemies."

"I beg your pardon?" she asked, only turning around to face him for a second.

"In real life people don't have arch enemies."

"Why not? That's rather dull!"

"So who did I meet?" John asked.

Sherlock swallowed. _"He doesn't matter!" _

"So what do people have in their normal everyday lives, as you call it, dear doctor?"

"Friend?...People they like. People they don't like and…sometimes girlfriends."

Sherlock laughed. "I don't have friends, doctor and despite the many rumours that goes about I'm not a lesbian."

"It's fine if you are…"

"I'm not."

"So you're into boyfriends."

"Not really my area, John."

"Then…"

"I don't do relationships."

"So you're unattached. Just like me. Fine. Good."

"Oh, I am so sorry John. I am very flattered that you've turned your interests in my direction but I think you should know that I'm married to my work and…"

"No! I'm just saying…it's all fine! All of it! Is fine!"

"Oh. Good then. Thank you." she replied. A taxi across the street suddenly caught her eye. "Well what do we have here? Taxi stopped just outside 22. Nobody getting in; nobody getting out. Oh that's clever. Is it clever? Why is it clever?"

"That's him?" John asked turning around.

"Don't stare, John."

"Why? You're staring!"

"We can't both stare!" she replied, before grabbing her coat and putting it, on. She ran out of the restaurant and John followed her, only taking his jacket and not his walking stick.

The taxi began to drive off, when Sherlock got outside, and she almost got hit by a car whilst trying to chase after it. She began to suddenly talk to herself, so quickly that John couldn't make sense of it but she was memorising the London A to Z to know where the cab was going.

"I've got the number."

"Excellent." she remarked, haughtily, before running off - John, following her at top speed. He had never run so fast for a long, long time. It was all coming back to him; the adrenaline that he would get when in danger or in need of dire speed. He was chasing after Sherlock, running up stairs, and jumping across roofs, and then running downstairs, all until Sherlock finally stopped a cab.

"Police, open her up!" she ordered, breathlessly to the cab. John could barely catch his breath. Sherlock opened up the cab. "No, no. Californian!...La Santa Monica? Just arrived."

"How could you possibly know that?"

"Observe the luggage." she replied before turning to, the man in the taxi. "Your first trip to London?"

"Yeah."

"I can tell, going by the route."

"I'm sorry are you guys the police?"

"Yes, we are." Sherlock replied, smiling. "Everything all right?"

"Yes." he replied, eyeing her with affection.

"Welcome to London." she said, before walking away from the taxi.

John felt awkward and had to chip in. "Any problems let us know!"

"So basically a cab that just happened to slow down?" John asked, Sherlock who was holding an ID card.

"Apparently."

"Not the murder."

"Absolutely not."

"Wrong country and good alibi."

"Well, as far as they go."

"Hey where did you get this? Sergeant Sally Donovan?" asked John, taking the ID card from Sherlock's hand.

"I pickpocket her when she annoys me."

John laughed.

"I have one of Lestrade's that you can keep and I have plenty more at the flat."

John started laughing.

"What?" she asked curiously.

"Nothing…just umm….welcome to London!"

Sherlock smiled and then she frowned. John saw a hint of sadness in her eyes. Then her smile suddenly came back on. "Got your breath back?"

John looked over to the LA man talking to a policeman. "Ready when you are." he replied, before breaking into a run with Sherlock.

* * *

A/N Thanks everyone who has alerted, and added this story to favourite etc. Big thanks to PushToShove and JaneEyre0 :D My two great friends.


	8. A Study In Pink Part 8

Sherlock and John burst into laughter, as soon as they came inside. John was at a loss to how they could still breathe. "Oh that was ridiculous. The most ridiculous thing I've ever done."

"You say that and you've invaded Afghanistan?!" Sherlock laughed, causing John to giggle.

"That wasn't just me. Why aren't we back at the restaurant?"

"Oh let them keep an eye out. It was rather a long shot anyway."

"So what were we doing there?"

"I thought it passed the time and it allowed me to prove a point."

"What point?"

"Mrs Hudson! My dear Doctor Watson will take the room upstairs!" Sherlock called out.

"Says who?" John asked.

"The man at the door."

There was a knock at the front door and John answered. "Sherlock, texted me. She said you forgot this." It was Angelo and he was handing John his stick.

"Thank you. Thank you." John said, before skipping inside.

"Sherlockina what have you done?" Mrs Hudson asked, Sherlock. She looked upset.

"What's the matter?" Sherlock asked, Mrs Hudson.

"Upstairs."

Sherlock dashed upstairs and found Lestrade sitting in her favourite arm chair. "What on earth do you think you are doing?" she asked, looking around. Several police officers were searching around her flat. She was at loss as to how she could patiently cope with this situation.

John walked up behind her.

"I knew you'd find the case I am not stupid!"

Sherlock had to stand and seriously think for a moment on whether or not remark with a snide comment. _"I beg to differ." _she thought.

"You can't just charge into my flat and make yourself at home. Breaking and entering!"

"I did not break into your flat!" Lestrade defended.

"Then what on earth have you done? What do you call this escapade of yours?"

"It's a drugs bust!" Lestrade, replied simply.

John really had to deal with the injustice he saw. "Seriously, her a junkie? Have you met her?!"

An amused smiled appeared on Lestrade's face.

"Umm…John…" began Sherlock, trying to find a delicate way to explain to him. "Perhaps we should just…"

"You could search this flat all day and I'm pretty sure you'll find nothing you could call recreational!"

"John, please shut up!" Sherlock, spoke.

They exchanged glances and Lestrade's smile broadened.

"You? No, way!"

"Oh dear god, shut up!" she snapped. She turned to Lestrade. "I do hope that you are under no delusions that I am your sniffer dog!"

"No, Anderson is my sniffer dog." Lestrade, said pointing to Anderson who was in the kitchen.

"Why on earth are you wasting your skills on a drugs bust, Anderson?" Sherlock asked.

"Oh I volunteered!" Anderson, replied.

"They all did!" Lestrade spoke. "They're not strictly speaking on the drugs squad but they are very keen."

Even John thought Lestrade was going a bit far but he could see why he was doing it too. Both ways he could tell that it was the wrong way to deal with, Sherlock.

Donvan appeared with a jar, looking disgusted. "Are these human, eyes?" she asked.

"Could you put them back please?" Sherlock, replied.

"They were in the microwave!"

"If you must intrude and find out, Sally then I shall tell you that they are for an experiment!"

"Keep looking guys!" Lestrade called out before walking up to Sherlock to talk to her. "Or you could help us properly and I'll stand them down."

"How childish of you but then again you are a man!" sneered Sherlock. She was finally beginning to lose it.

"I am dealing with a child!" he replied, ignoring the comment about men. He was used to her sneering comments on anyone of the opposite sex. In fact he was used to her comments on anyone of the same or opposite, gender - it was just that she really hated men. He knew she put up with him because he got her the cases, but why she was putting up with John was questionable.

"Sherlock this is our case and I'm letting you in but you do not go off on your own! Clear?" he continued.

"So this is how low you've gone, Lestrade so that I will phone in and report to you at your beck and call? You set up a pretend drugs bust to bully me?!"

"It stops being pretend if they find anything." Lestrade said, seriously.

"I have you know that I do not even smoke!" Sherlock replied before showing Lestrade her arm.

"Neither do I." he replied, showing her his nicotine patch. "So let's work together."

Sherlock sighed.

John looked on. He felt a bit sorry for her. But he could see that was how her life always was, and what was scaring John the most was that it was not putting him off moving in to the flat in the slightest.

"We found Rachel." Lestrade announced.

"Oh, excellent! Who is she?"

"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter." Lestrade replied.

"That makes no sense whatsoever!"

"How not?" John asked.

"Why would she write her daughter's name? Why?"

"Never mind that, we've got the case! According to someone the murdering has the case! And here we have it in the hands of our favourite psychopath."

John saw something snap in Sherlock as she whipped around to face Anderson. Was being called a psychopath a touchy subject? He couldn't help but wonder.

"I am not a psychopath, Anderson! I'm a highly functioning sociopath! For once can't you do you research?"

She turned to Lestrade. "We should bring Rachel in and question her. I need to question her."

"She's dead."

"Interesting. How, when and why? Is there a connection? There has to be!"

"I doubt it when she's been dead for fourteen years. Technically she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, fourteen years ago."

John looked away for a moment.

"What….that's not….It's not any bringer of sense. In fact it clouds all theory…Just why on earth would she do that?!"

"Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments. Yup; sociopath. I'm seeing it now."

"Oh Anderson to have things as simple as you do. I envy you!"

"Sorry?" Anderson replied.

"Oh don't worry about it, I'm surrounded by idiots all over the place. She didn't just think of her daughter. Anyone can think of their daughter. She put effort into scratching her name into the floorboards. It would have been so painful!"

John looked over to Sherlock. "You said that the victims all took the poison themselves, that he makes them take it. Well maybe he…I don't know…talks to them. Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow?"

"All of that would be an interesting theory if it weren't for the fact that it happened fourteen years ago. It would make no sense for her to still be upset." Sherlock replied. Everyone looked at her, as though she had made a crime.

She looked over to John. "I take it that was not good?"

"A bit not good, yes." John replied, shocked at the fact she really was being serious.

"If you were dying. If you'd been murdered. In you very last few seconds what would you say?"

"Please God let me live." John replied.

"Have you no imagination?" Sherlock asked.

John bowed his had. He didn't need to have it. He had almost died and a look of apology appeared on the madwoman's face. "I don't need it."

"Yeah but if you were as clever as Jennifer Wilson. Yes she was clever. She had to run all those lovers. She's trying to tell us something! But what?!"

"Isn't the doorbell working, your taxi is here, Sherlock!" Mrs Hudson spoke, coming into the living room.

"Sorry Mrs Hudson must have been mistake. Go away, please!"

"Oh dear they are making such a mess. What are they looking for?" Mrs Hudson asked. John walked over and explained.

"It's a drugs bust Mrs Hudson."

"But they're just for my hip. They are herbal soothers."

"Everyone be silent!" Sherlock screamed.

They all looked at her. John could see she was being pushed to her limits of putting up with everything. Finally he saw what Harry would have done in the first few seconds of pressure.

"No one speak! No one move! No one breathe! Anderson will you face the other way it would be a massive help."

"How?"

"Oh you are an idiotic man and I can only be blunt! You're face is putting me off!"

"My face is?"

"Everybody quiet and still. Anderson turn around." Lestrade ordered.

"Oh for God's sake."

"Your back, now, please!" Lestrade told him again.

"Come on, Sherlock think!" Sherlock urged herself.

"What about your taxi?" Mrs Hudson asked, again.

"GIVE ME STRENGTH!" Sherlock exclaimed. "Oh…Oh I see. I see. I see. Why didn't I see before. I'm getting old. I'm too slow. I should never have turned twenty seven. She was so clever! Yes. Clever! She's so much cleverer than you all will ever be! And she's dead! She never lost her phone! She planted it! When she got out of the car, she knew she was going to her death. She left the phone in order to lead us to her killer!"

"How?" Lestrade asked.

John sat on an armchair.

"Oh Lestrade how funny are you!"

"Funny?" Lestrade asked.

"Yes, there you are standing and pretending that you don't see the obvious! Because if it's not a joke I will seriously say something not nice."

"I don't see." Lestrade replied.

She stomped her foot on the ground. "Dear god! Is it nice not being me? It must be so relaxing! Rachel is not her name!"

"Then what is it?!" John snapped.

"John, be a dear and go to her luggage and tell me her email address."

Sherlock moved over to her laptop as John told her the email address. "I've been so very slow. You see she didn't have her laptop with her which meant she did her business on her phone. A smart phone. Email enabled. So there was a website for her account. " Sherlock explained as she typed in the email address. "And all together now everybody just like in school…the password is?"

"Rachel." John answered.

"Oh so what? We get to read her emails." Anderson mocked.

"Anderson you are doing a very good job…" she began.

"Thanks…" he went on to say.

"Of lowering the IQ of the whole street." Sherlock replied.

"You are the IQ of the whole street." John told her. Sherlock smiled.

"We can do far much more than look at what I am sure will be interesting emails to her lovers. No, no. Much more indeed. It's got GPS which means if you lose it you can locate it online."

"Unless he got rid of it." Lestrade, said.

"We know he didn't." John replied. Sherlock would have thanked him but she had let her ego get bruised enough.

"Oh, come on map hurry up!" she begged the screen.

She stood up and rubbed her aching neck.

"Sherlock, love this taxi driver…" began Mrs Hudson.

"Mrs Hudson perhaps you should go and have your herbal soother for your hip." she replied before turning to Lestrade. "You need to get vehicles, helicopters whatever out. This phone battery will not stay charged for long."

"We'll just have a map reference."

"It's a start."

"Sherlock…" John began as he looked at the computer in shock.

"Here. It's here. In 221 Baker Street."

"Not possible. I would have noticed it."

"Maybe it fell out of the suitcase." Lestrade suggested.

"I would have noticed it."

"Guys we're also looking for a mobile. Belong to the victim." Lestrade spoke.

Sherlock suddenly put two and two together with the sudden taxi driver's arrival who was bothering Mrs Hudson to bother her.

Sherlock's phone alert went off as she stared at a cabbie, outside the living room. Mrs Hudson had obviously brought him up. **"Come with me." ** the text said.

John could see a look on Sherlock's face of thought. Extreme though. "Are you ok?"

"Me? Yeah I am spectacular John."

"How can the phone be here?"

"Mistake maybe. Maybe I pressed the wrong icon."

"I'll try again."

"Yeah you do that."

Sherlock left, telling John she needed air.


	9. A Study In Pink Part 9

Sherlock stepped outside into the cold air to face the taxi driver. "Taxi for Sherlock Holmes?" he asked.

"I am afraid I did not order a taxi." she replied.

"Doesn't mean you don't need one."

"Standing before me is the man who stopped outside Northumberland street. It was you! Not your passenger."

"See nobody ever thinks about the cabbie. Its like you're invisible. You're just the back of a head. Proper advantage to a serial killer."

"Oh is that a confession that I heard escape your lips?"

"Oh yeah. And I'll tell you what else. If you call the coppers right now, I won't run. I'll sit quiet and I will let them take me down. I promise."

"Why would you let them do that?"

"Because you're not going to do that!"

"Whatever would give you that idea?"

"I didn't kill those four people miss Holmes. I spoke to 'em...and they killed themselves. If you get the coppers now, I'll promise you one thing. I will never tell you what I said."

"However any possibility of someone else dying by your work would be eliminated. Now that is what the police call a result."

"And you won't understand how those people died. What kind of result do you care about?"

"Say that I was I intrigued to know find out more. What will I do?"

"Let me take you for a ride."

"Is that all? Fine then."

"Typical. The great Sherlockina Holmes not at all afraid of dying."

"I am not scared of a man."

"Really? Because I'm going to talk to you Miss Holmes and then you are going to kill yourself."

"Very well then." Sherlock replied before stepping into the taxi.

John watched from the window in Baker Street. He turned around to Lestrade. "She just got in a just drove off on a cab."

Donovan spoke up bitterly. "I told you; she does that. She bloody left again. We're wasting our time."

John began ringing Jennifer Wilson's phone. "I'm calling then phone. It's ringing out."

"If it's ringing then its not here."

"Does it matter? Does any of it? She's just a lunatic, and she'll always let you down. And you're wasting your time. All our time."

Lestrade thought for a moment and then sighed. "Okay everybody we're done here."

"How did you find me?" Sherlock asked, in the back of the taxi as she took in everywhere she was being driven.

"Oh I recognised ya. Soon as I saw you chasing my cab. Sherlockina Holmes! I was warned about you. I've been on your website, too. Brilliant stuff. Loved it!"

"And just who on earth could have warned you about me?"

"Just someone out there's who's noticed."

Sherlock frowned in thought. "Who, would that be? Who would have noticed me"

"You're too modest, Miss Holmes."

"Oh you have no idea." Sherlock replied. "I'm really not that modest at all."

"Got yourself a fan."

"Oh, do tell me more about this fan."

"That's all you're going to know. In this lifetime." the Cabbie replied. Sherlock raised an eyebrow and sat back.

"Why did she do that? Why did she have to leave?" Lestrade asked John. John was puzzled. Why was Lestrade asking him that question?

"You know her better than I do."

"I've known her for five years - and no I don't."

"So why do you put up with her?"

"Because I'm desperate, that's why. And because Sherlock is a great person – and I think one day, if we're very, very lucky, she might make a good one."

John frowned. When Lestrade was gone he heard Sherlock's laptop making a beeping noise, indicating it had found a fixed point where the phone was. John looked at it, before grabbing it and running out – once again leaving behind his walking stick.

The taxi stopped and Sherlock looked out. "Where on earth are we?" she asked.

"You know every street in London. You know exactly where we are."

"Roland-Kerr Further Education College. Why here?"

"It's open. Cleaners are in. One thing about being a cabbie – you always know a nice quiet sport for a murder. Im' surprised more of us don't branch out."

She leaned back in her chair and let out a mocking sigh. "So how do you get your victims to walk inside?"

The cabbie revealed a gun, and pointed it at Sherlock. "How very dull of you."

"Don't worry it gets better."

"It's a little bit silly, making people take their own lives at gunpoint."

"I don't. It's much better than that. Don't need this with you. Cos you'll follow me.

He walked onwards to one the building on the right of the college. Sherlock followed after him. "Well what do you think? It's you who's going to die here." the Cabbie said, after leading Sherlock into what looked like a study centre. She sat down and sighed.

"I highly doubt that a simple man is going to be the death of me." she replied.

"Your fan; he was right. You do have issues with men."

"You've taken me from under the nose of several police officers, and not to mention Mrs Hudson will remember you. Bit of a risk isn't it?" Sherlock changed the subject.

"You call that a risk?" he asked, sitting down across from her. "No. This is a risk."

He placed a bottle with a pill inside on the table. Sherlock looked on in thought. "Oh I like this bit, because you don't get it do ya?"

Sherlock looked at him and sighed. "To the point, you're boring me."

"Don't worry you're about to. I just have to do this." he replied, and he put another bottle with a pill inside on the table. "Weren't expecting that were ya? Oh you're going to love this."

"Oh do tell me what I'm going to love?"

"Sherlockina Holmes look at you. Here in the flesh. That website of yours. Your fan told me about it."

"This fan?"

"You are brilliant. You are a proper genius. The science of deduction. Now that's proper thinking. Between you and me, why can't people just think? Don't it drive you mad? Why can't people just think?"

"Oh I understand now. You're under the delusion that you're a proper genius too?"

"Not a delusion. I am. Don't look it, do I? Funny little man, driving a cab. But you'll know better in a minute. Chances are it'll be the last thing you'll ever know."

"So here we have two bottles. Please explain!" Sherlock, said airily and with an eerie politeness. She threw held her arms out and shrugged.

"There's a good bottle and a bad bottle. You take the pill from the good bottle you'll live. You take the pill from the bad bottle, and you die."

"And of course both bottles are identical?"

"In every way."

"I am under no false allusions that you don't know what bottle is which."

"Oh I know."

"And yet I don't?"

"It wouldn't be a game if you knew. You're the one who chooses."

"Why should I do that? There is absolutely nothing to go on. What ever could I gain for it? Absolutely nothing in it for me."

"I haven't told you the best bit yet. Whatever bottle YOU choose, I take the pill from the other one. And then together...we take our medicine. I won't cheat. It's your choice. I'll take whatever pill you don't. Didn't expect that, did you, Miss. Holmes?

"Oh I see and this is what you did, with your four victims. You gave them this choice."

"And now I'm giving you one. You take your time. Get yourself together. I want your best game."

"It's chance. Not a game." she replied.

"I've played four times. I'm alive. It's not chance, Miss. Holmes, it's chess. It's a game of chess, with one move...and one survivor. And this…" he began as he pushed a bottle forward over to Sherlock. "this...is the move. Did I just give you the good bottle or the bad bottle? You can choose either one."

John was on his mobile, in a cab as he began his search for Sherlock. He was having no luck, getting in contact with Lestrade. "No detective, Inspector Lestrade. I need to speak to him! It's important! It's an emergency."

He looked up to his cabbie. "Er left here please. Left here."

"You ready yet, Miss Holmes? Ready to play?"

"I don't understand what I'm playing. It's a fifty, fifty chance."

"You're not playing the numbers, you're playing me. Did I just give you the good bottle or the bad bottle? Is it a bluff, or a double bluff or a triple bluff?"

"It's still just a chance!" Sherlock replied.

"Four people in a row, it's not a chance."

"Luck!"

"It's genius. I know how people think. I know how people think I think. I can see it all like a map inside my had. Everyone's so stupid! Even you! Or perhaps God just loves me!"

"_Who does he is to have the right to call me stupid?!"_ Sherlock thought with an outraged sigh.

"What's curious is the fact that you've risked your life to kill four strangers. Why?"

"Time to play." he continued to goad.

"Oh but I am playing. This is my turn. There's shaving foam behind your left ear. Nobody's pointed it out to you. Traces of where it's happened before, so obviously you live on your own - there's no-one to tell you. But there's a photograph of children. Their mother's been cut out. If she'd died, she'd still be there. The photograph's old, but the frame's new. You think of your children, but you don't get to see them. Estranged father. She took the kids, but you still love them and it still hurts. Ah, but there's more. Your clothes. Recently laundered, but everything you're wearing is at least...three years old? Keeping up appearances, but not planning ahead. And here you are on a kamikaze murder spree. What's that about? Ah...Three years ago. Is that when they told you?"

"What?"

"That you're a dead man walking?"

"Aren't you as well?"

"You don't have long, though. Am I right?" she replied, ignoring his comment.

"Aneurism. Right in 'ere. Any breath could be my last."

"And because you're dying, you've just murdered four people."

"I've outlived four people. That's the most fun you can have with an aneurism."

" No... No, there's something else. You didn't just kill four people because you're bitter. Bitterness is a is a much more vicious motivator. Somehow, this is about your children."

"Oh you are good aren't you?"

Sherlock smiled. "But how?"

"When I die they won't get much, my kids. Not a lot of money in driving cabs."

"Or serial killing."

"You'd be surprised."

"Then surprise me."

"I have a sponsor."

"A sponsor?"

"For every life I take, money goes to my kids. The more I kill. The better of they'll be. You see? It's nicer than you think."

"And just who would sponsor a serial killer?"

"Who would be a fan of Sherlockina Holmes? You're not the only one to enjoy a good murder. There's others out there. Plenty more, except you're just a woman. And they're so much more than that."

"What do you mean by more than a woman? An organisation? What?"

"There's a name that no one says. And I'm not going to say it either. Now enough chatter time to choose!"

John looked on from the building across to see, Sherlock, talking with the cabbie. "Sherlock! Sherlock!" he called out futility. He could guess what was happening with the pills. He didn't need to be her and part of him knew she was going to take it.

"What if I don't choose either one and I walk out of here?" Sherlock, inquired haughtily.

He removed his gun again and it took all of Sherlock's strength not to laugh. "You can take the fifty, fifty chance or I shoot you in the head. Funny enough no one's ever gone for that option."

"Well I like to stand out from the crowd. I'll take the gun please."

"Are you sure? Don't' want to phone a friend?" he asked.

"The gun please."

He pulled the trigger and a flame appeared, from the barrel.

"I know a real gun when I see one." she pointed out.

"None of the others did."

"Clearly. Well this has been very entertaining. I look forward to the court case." she said, before standing up. She began to make her way away.

"_Yes." _John thought from the other side. _"Yes, Sherlock go and you'll be safe. We'll get him arrested. Just walk away from him. Because if you don't then I'm going to have to kill him. Please, Sherlock. Go!"_

"Just before you go did you ever work it out? Which one's the good bottle?"

She snickered. "Oh of course I did. It was child's play."

"which one, then? Which one would you have picked? Just so I know whether I could have beaten you. Come on play the game!"

Sherlock snapped the bottle which was closest to the cabbie. While she was not looking his face fell and then he composed it.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "Interesting! So what do you think? Shall we? Really…what do you think? Can you beat me? Are you clever enough?"

"_Sherlock you put that down and get out of there now! Sherlockina Holmes, you're worse than Harry!"_

"Are you clever enough to bet your life?" he continued to goad.

"SHERLOCK!" John yelled again, hoping that she might just be able to hear him, and miraculously snap into sense."

"I bet you get bored, don't you?" the cabbie asked as Sherlock examined the pill in her hand. "I know you do. A girl like you; so clever. But what's the point of being clever if you can't prove it? Still the addict! But this…this is what you're really addicted to. You'll do anything to stop being bored. You're not bored now, are ya? Isn't it good?"

Before Sherlock could let the pill touch her lips, there was the sound of a gun firing, followed by breaking glass. The cabbie fell to the floor. Shot in the shoulder.

Sherlock ran up to the window and looked but she saw no one, so she walked over to the cabbie. "Was I correct? I know I was correct! I was correct, wasn't I?"

The cabbie never said anything.

"Fine, then. Tell me who your sponsor is instead! The one who told you all about me? Who was it? Who is my fan?" she asked, earning only a shake of the head.

"You are dying, right now and I know ways to hurt you and don't think for one moment I won't do it! You know how much I hate men! No mercy!"

He still shook his head.

Sherlock stood on his shoulder. "The name, please!"

"MORIARTY!" he said, pain in his voice before dying.


	10. A Study In Pink Part 10

Sherlock sat in the back of an ambulance, utterly baffled by why they had a shock blanket on her. Lestrade walked up to her, and immediately he was burdened with her question. "Why do they insist on constantly putting this hideous, piece of fabric over my shoulders?"

"It's a shock blanket. It's for shock."

"I'm not in shock, unless you count the fact that I may be shocked by the fact that a man tried to kill me tonight. I mean do they ever learn?"

Lestrade sighed. "Well for one some of the guys wanted to take photographs."

"Guys. Might have known."

"You know not all men are bad. What about him over there?"

Sherlock looked over to who Lestrade was referring to. John. "That's different. That's John. So the shooter? I take it there is no sign of him or her anywhere."

"Cleared off before we got here but a guy like that could have had enemies, I suppose. One of the could have been following him but we've got nothing to go on."

"So typical of you to say that, when you obviously do." Sherlock, replied giving him a wide smirk.

"OK. Give me."

"The bullet they just dug out of the wall's from a handgun. A kill shot over that distance, that's a crack shot. But not just a marksman, a fighter. His or her hands couldn't have shaken at all so clearly he or she is acclimatised to violence. They didn't fire until I was in immediate danger though, so strong moral principle. You're looking for a man or a woman probably with a history of military service, and...nerves of steel..." She suddenly realised who it was. Her gaze turned to John who was standing, waiting patiently.

"He killed to save me…"

"Actually, do you know what? Ignore me." Sherlock continued. "Ignore me. I'm in shock and it's contributing to my speech and I'm just not ready to do all the logical calculating that I normally do."

She went to walk over to John. "Where are you going?"

"I just need to talk about the rent." Sherlock replied.

"I've still got questions."

"Lestrade, can't you see I'm in shock?! Have some respect! I did just give you a serial killer!"

"OK. We'll pull you in tomorrow."

She made her way over to John. "Erm…Sergeant Donovan has just been explaining everything. The two pills…dreadful business, isn't it?"

"May I just say that you had a wonderful shot!"

John went to say something but stammered.

"I think we need to get the powder burns off out of your fingers. I don't suppose that you would serve time for this but let's avoid the court case they tend to get a little boring…Are you alright?"

"Yes, of course I'm alright."

"But you just killed a man. That's…Thank you."

"Yes I killed him, that's true but he wasn't a very nice man and…it's fine, Sherlock. It's fine."

"He wasn't a very nice man, was he?"

"Frankly, a bloody awful cabbie."

"Terribly awful. If he wasn't taking me to my apparent death I would have to have paid a fortune. You should have seen the route he took to get us here."

They began to laugh. "Stop it, we can't giggle at a crime scene."

"Well you're the on who shot him." Sherlock said as they began making their way away from the ambulance.

"Keep your voice down!" John laughed. Sally drew them a look.

"Sorry it's the shock." John told her as they continued walking on.

"Sorry." Sherlock called over to her.

"You were going to take that bloody pill weren't you?"

"Indeed I was not! I was merely biding my time for the moment you'd be your usual self. I.e a hero. I knew that you'd show up."

"I don't believe you. That's how you get your kicks isn't it? You risk your life to prove your clever."

"I don't know why you'd think I would do that!"

"Because you're an idiot."

"I haven't eaten in a few days. I think we should go and get something to eat. What do you say?"

"I'm starving." John agreed. He could tell she was changing the subject.

"Just at the end of Baker Street, there is a spectacular Chinese Restaurant and it's open until two. Were you aware that you can tell a good Chinese by the bottom third of the door handle?"

John laughed, and then his eyes caught the sight of a man exiting a black car. The same man, who had spoken to him earlier that night and he was with Anthea.

"Sherlock that's him. The man I was talking to you about." John pointed out.

Sherlock looked over to who it was and swallowed before letting out a sigh. "Whatever has made him show his face?"

"Hmm?"

"I know exactly who that man is."

They walked up to him and he spoke to Sherlock. "Another case cracked. How very public-spirited. Though that's never really your motivation, is it?"

"Do tell me why you are here?" Sherlock, asked again with that sinister politeness she used to frighten people. This man was used to it however and he just sighed.

"As ever I'm concerned about you."

"As ever? Oh. Right. I must not have noticed it before. Oh but umm…yes I did hear about your little bout of it."

"You are always on the verge of attack, dear. Did it ever occur to you, that you and I belong on the same side?"

"Not at all, dear." she mocked her endearment.

"We have more in common than you'd like to believe. This petty feud between us is simply childish. People will suffer. And you know how it always upset Mummy."

"I don't believe that it was I who upset her, Mycroft!" Sherlock replied.

John was frowning in thought. "No. No, wait...Mummy? Who's Mummy?"

"She's our mother. This man here is my alleged brother. I call him Mycroft; as do many other people but that's just his birth name. Putting on weight Mycroft?"

"Losing it in fact."

"He's your brother? His birth name? What? Sherlock explain. I'm confused really I am. He's…"

"Oh John, you've had a trying night. Yes he's my brother. His birth name is Mycroft but he's now nicknamed the British Government and that's when he's not freelancing for the CIA or MI5 or whatever, on a freelance basis. No he's not a criminal mastermind but he might as well be. Goodnight, brother. Don't start a war while I make my way home, it's rather bad for traffic."

Sherlock began making her way away from Mycroft.

"So when you say that you're concerned about her, you actually are concerned?"

"Yes, of course."

I mean, it actually is a childish feud?"

"She's always been so resentful. You can imagine the Christmas dinners."

"Yeah…No. God no. I'd better erm…" he began before turning to Anthea. "Hello again."

"Hello."

"We met earlier this evening."

"Oh!" she replied, with realisation.

"Ok goodnight." he replied, giving up.

"Goodnight, Dr Watson." Mycroft said.

John caught back up with Sherlock. "So, dinner sounds good."

"I love predicting the fortune cookies."

"No you can't."

"Almost can. You did get shot, though."

"Sorry?"

"While you were in Afghanistan, there was an actual wound."

"Oh yeah, shoulder."

"I thought so"

"No you didn't."

"The left one."

"Lucky guess."

"I never guess."

"Yes, you do. What are you so happy about?"

"Moriarty."

"What's Moriarty?"

"I've absolutely no idea."

"Sir, shall we go?" Anthea asked Mycroft.

" Interesting, that soldier fellow. He could be the making of my sister...or make him worse than ever. Either way, we'd better upgrade their surveillance status. Grade three active."

"Sorry, sir - whose status?"

"Sherlockina Holmes, and Dr Watson."

* * *

A/N thanks to PushToShove and JaneEyre0 to whom I dedicate this story to. These are my two most loyal friends, and I owe them a lot.

So that's a Study in Pink finished, so the next chapter will be the beginning of the next story I base it on. I am not doing Blind Banker and I am not following the series now. I want to make it quite different from now.

So a big thanks to y'all especially JaneEyre0 and PushToShove. :)


	11. The Illustrious Client Part 1

John woke up to silence which was a very rare thing for him indeed. For the past month and a half he had been accustomed to be woken up by the sound of Sherlock playing her violin, but that morning for him was silent. He never questioned it too much until he was downstairs. Sherlock was staring at the ceiling with her hands in a prayer shape touching her lips. She hadn't bothered to get dressed and she was still in her pyjamas and dressing gown. Something was bothering her.

"Morning." he greeted her.

She looked at him for a moment, studying him carefully. "Another night out with Stamford. Can't be doing you much good, at all can it?"

"Perhaps you should come next time." John said with a yawn as he began to make himself coffee. He then took a bowl out of the cupboard and sat it on the worktop. Sherlock, watched amused as he looked for the box of cereal.

"It would be a severe waste of my energy to go out with you. I would be much better in with my brain on constant overdrive, waiting for stimulus."

"Waste of your time. Right." John took in what she said.

"Just like it's a waste of your time to be looking for your cereal." she informed him.

"Why is that then?" John asked her, snappily. Clearly he was not a morning person.

Sherlock suddenly began giggling. It was moments when she did that that scared John terribly. Mostly because he couldn't tell if they were genuine or just her being plain mocking. "You finished the box yesterday morning I believe to which you said 'we'll have to go shopping for more' and I assumed that you accidentally used 'we'll' instead of 'I'll'."

"No I meant we. Or one of us. It's always me that gets the shopping. It's about time that you got out and did it."

"John, John, John." she droned on. "If only I had the simplicity you find in life. Shopping is not my area of expertise. It gives my mind simply no stimulus and thus I have no need for it in my life. Also, you must take into consideration the very fact that the food fund really only benefits me in terms of tea and coffee. And thus my only items are really tea bags, coffee, milk and sugar. So, while you are out getting what you use you might as well pick them up for me using the food fund of which I pay half into."

John looked at her in bewilderment. He was never going to get used to her odd statements and behaviour. Underneath it all it was amusing and it made her more easy to connect with - he too was a little odd in the eyes of some - but part of him wondered if she was ever normal at any point in her life.

A mobile phone began to ring close by to John. The sound seem muffled for some reason. He opened a cupboard and found Sherlock's purple blackberry inside a vase, wrapped in an old yellow cloth. Sherlock was remaining oblivious to the noise and John sat it on the coffee table next to her.

"It was in a rag, in a vase, in one of the cupboards." he said as it continued to ring. Sherlock closed her eyes and let out a breath.

"Really? Oh how very lovely."

"I think it's Mycroft."

"Hence the reason I had it away in a yellow rag, in a vase, in a cupboard."

John nodded. He could see that Sherlock's relationship with her elder brother was far from smooth. He nodded. "Right. Well, I will pop out and get the shopping. Don't do anything drastic while I am away."

Sherlock giggled and he turned around to her. "I am flattered that you still assume that I still have energy to do that, when I am dying here of lethargy. Oh at times like this nicotine patches don't help me. I need a cigarette. Go and get me some from the shop will you?"

"Sherlock, you're not getting them! That is final! I am not going to be getting you anything that will harm your lungs."

"I know about the harmfulness but I don't care!" she replied, sitting up straight. "It stops my mind from hurting with the lack of use."

"If you want cigarettes get them yourself!" he replied, his tone like a father or a brother scolding their daughter or sister.

When John had escaped the madwoman he made his way to the supermarket in a cab. That was where most of Sherlock's half of the groceries fund went. He noticed the cabbie didn't make the right turning. John was about to question it but the cabbie spoke. "You're not going to the supermarket Dr Watson."

Sherlock was finally contemplating on getting up and getting showered and dressed when her door bell rang. The mere thought of getting up and going downstairs to answer it was quite off putting. Instead she walked over to the armchair and began to play her violin to block out the noise. "Sherlock is your doorbell not working?" Mrs Hudson's voice asked over the sound of Sherlock's melody.

She turned around and saw a woman and a man in a suit. "Across the landing is her bedroom. Get her clothes." The male one ordered.

She sighed. "I am comfortable the way that I am." she said, simply. "Excuse me if I don't want to be at my brother's beck and call."

"Where you're going you'll want to be dressed." the man said.

She glanced at him with a quirky smirk. "Indeed I know very well where I am going, sir but I am still not inclined to go. You'll have to drag me out of here and even then I won't let you do it quietly. Mrs Hudson pass me my phone!"

The man handed over her phone instead and Sherlock texted Mycroft. "Nice try brother dearest but it is not going to work."

"Miss Holmes your brother has given permission for us to drag you out kicking and screaming if need be."

"Hmm...you'll have to drag me out kicking and screaming then."

* * *

A/N and that my kind and wonderful readers is the beginning of the Illustrious client.


	12. The Illustrious Client Part 2

John waited patiently in the taxi as it drove on. He could tell who had been behind his change in travel plans; Mycroft. The taxi took him to a car park where he was led to a black car. Inside, he found Anthea who was texting away on her blackberry. He sat down, and she looked at him. "John, isn't it?"

John nodded and went to speak. "I've been told to take you to the palace."

"The what?" he asked.

John could not believe it, Anthea was leading him through the halls of Buckingham Palace. One of London's most iconic places, and when he found Sherlock she was still in her pyjamas, and dressing gown as she sat on one of the palace sofas. Her hands were handcuffed. And her eyes stared in to space. "Mr Holmes will be with you just shortly." Anthea told John.

John went over to where Sherlock was sitting and sat beside her. There was a silence between them for a moment, and then John had to ask a question. "Why are you wearing handcuffs?"

"They tried to drag me out kicking and screaming. They didn't believe that I would actually kick and scream and maybe even punch. Typical, stupid, idiotic, male." Sherlock complained. John mouthed it as she said it, knowing exactly what she was going to say.

"Are you a royal princess and you never told me?"

"No."

"Then why are we here?"

"I couldn't care less. The quicker we find out, then the quicker we can go home and I get cigarettes!"

"Speaking of I'm really resisting an urge to steal an astray. Sherlock maybe we are here to see the queen!" John suggested. At that moment Mycroft chose to stroll in, rather unfortunately for him.

"Oh it would seem so, let's bow to Queen Mycroft!"

John and Sherlock burst into extreme laughter. Their sides were aching from it.

"Queen Mycroft will never be in existence until his sister gets off her high horse!" Mycroft replied.

"How high are we talking, here? Sixteen hands, sixteen and a half or seventeen?" Sherlock, mused.

"Too high anyway for a five year old!"

"This five year old was having a nice time in Baker Street doing nothing."

"I'm sure you're undoubtebly craving a cigareete?" Mycroft asked.

"John wouldn't let me." she replied.

"I am only looking out for you." John, told her sincerely.

John thought she would hit him with something sarcastic or a snide remark but instead she smiled and it was the most genuine he'd seen appear on her face he'd seen.

"If you're craving a cigarette you're most likely bored and therefore you're without a case. So let's clear it up then. Time to get on with it."

He picked up her trousers, and blue blouse, before turning to her. "Why on earth have you picked up my clothes?"

"You see in case you've not noticed you're in Buckingham Palace, the heart of the British nation. Sherlockina Holmes stop looking like you were brought in out of a hospital!"

"I'm sorry, did I hear a voice order me to do something that I am not going to do?" Sherlock asked John.

"I think that is actually a true statement."

"Indeed I did hear it but it makes no sense to science as there is no one here but us!"

"Sherlockina!"

"It's called me Sherlockina again! I hate that name!"

"Sherlockina if you don't…" began Mycroft.

Sherlock suddenly stood up so she eye to eye with Mycroft. "I am not going to be subjected to normality. Give me one good reason why I should change out of my comfortable pyjamas?"

"Because, you've a client!"

"And who is this client?!" she asked through gritted teeth.

"Illustrious in the extreme, and remaining I inform you entirely anonymous." a man spoke. Sherlock turned around to face him. John stood up respectfully.

"Sherlockina, this is my friend James Demery." Mycroft introduced. "James, this is my darling little sister. I apologise for the state of her."

"It's quite alright. My request to see her was rather sudden and I'm sure she just got out of bed."

Demery turned over to face John. "And this must be Doctor John Watson, formerly of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers."

"Hello, yes." John replied.

"I have heard all about you, from Mycroft and how you've been babysitting Miss Holmes. Keeping her out of trouble."

He turned to Sherlock. "So, Miss Holmes you're the famous consulting detective that I've heard about."

"Indeed I am." she replied, with politeness. John winced. He hated it when she did that. It honestly frightened him.

"I must say I expected someone shorter." James commented.

"Well, mother always said I could be a model with my height."

"Ah yes, your dear mother. I passed my condolensces on to Mycroft already, allow me to pass them on to you."

John looked over to Sherlock and he was sure he saw a swallow.

"Thank you that is very kind of you. But as to why you've brought me here."

"Yes my employer…"

"Can't remain anonymous if I am to do my job properly. I'm afraid anonymous clients are not my forte as they say."

"Sherlockina…" began Mycroft.

Sherlock turned to Mycroft. "I'm sorry, brother but you yourself know that I am used to mystery at one end of my cases. Having it at both is too confusing and far too much work for me."

"Can I at least state my case to you, Miss Holmes?" asked Demery.

"You may but do not expect me to be obligated afterwards." she replied.

"Thank you." Demery replied.

"Excuse me a moment, while I change in to my clothes." she replied.

"Anthea will show you to somewhere where you can get changed and she will remove the handcuffs." Mycroft said.

"I'll be mummy." Mycroft, said to Demery as he poured tea for, everyone.

"The question is which one of you, did I see more of." Sherlock, inputted – she had just got back from getting changed. John looked over to her. As usual when it came to Mycroft and Sherlock's sibling rivalry he was confused. He was worried about Sherlock and he wondered when her mother had died. Then he remembered the day he had stepped in to Barts lab. She was wearing suit trousers, a white shirt and a tie and the following day she was wearing heels and a skirt. It was never like her to do that. She was always comfortable in her black denim trousers, her army style boots and her blouses.

"So around about the twenty ninth of January, then." John thought.

"My employer has a little problem." Demery, stated suddenly.

"A matter has come to light which must be dealt with as soon as possible." Mycroft added in. "A man named Adelbert Gruner…"

"Please tell me you've not brought me in for simple murder trial, now Mycroft."

"Indeed we believe he did murder his wife, but that is not our concern." Demery interjected.

"As a PR man for the royal family then I take it your concern is your employer's concern and your employer's concern is that a royal family member may be publicly disgraced."

"Along those lines, yes." Mycroft replied.

"How…" began Demery.

"I'm sorry I've taken you both off track. Continue by all means."

John shot her a look.

"We have been informed by a Miss Kitty Winter that this man has a PDA which he uses for personal use."

"Well isn't that the idea of a PDA in the first place?"

"He has two. One for normal usage and the other he keeps hidden god knows where." Demery explained.

"And what's significant about this other PDA?" asked Sherlock.

"On this PDA are a list of women he had taken possession off."

"Oh dear and who is on this list?"

"Two people actually who could very well jeopardise a royal public image." Mycroft explained.

"Do tell me more." Sherlock spoke.

"We can only tell you one of the women on the list." Mycroft began.

"Do tell."

"A lady known as Miss Violet De Merville will be on that list very soon."

"Violet De Merville?" Sherlock questioned.

"Her father is a pilot in the army." Mycroft explained.

Something lit up in Sherlock's eyes. "I take it this Violet is chums with a royal family member and perhaps through another royal connection they know that this man Gruner is dangerous."

"Indeed. Her father and my employer wish it that she does not see this man at all anymore and get as far away from him as possible." Demery spoke.

"And the other name."

"I can't tell you." Mycroft, explained.

"When I find this PDA which I assume is what you want me to do then surely I'll see it."

"The PDA has security measures." Mycroft, said.

Sherlock looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

"We'd also like you to bring him down for the murderer he is, and also persuade Violet in to leaving him." Demery spoke.

"Here is some more information." Mycroft smiled, as he handed his sister a file.

"Why are you asking me, to do this?" she asked. "Any one of your female PR women could go in there and get it."

"We don't know where the PDA is and we need a women who will not be taken away by his charms, so to speak." Mycroft told her.

"So you came to the sociopath."

"Indeed, Miss Holmes." Demery spoke. "From what we hear you are often said to be without a heart. It's exactly what we need in this case."

Sherlock laughed. "That is very true." she said to him. "Well then to sum it up. You need this PDA as soon as possible, you need Violet back to daddy and you need Gruner taken down. It's kind of sketchy."

"It's all we can say and ask, without giving too much away." Mycroft, said.

"I assume that she will be paid for this." John spoke, up.

"Indeed. A considerable amount." Demery replied "Paid to your brother to pay to Miss Holmes."

"I do urge you to be careful, sister dearest as Gruner is a very dangerous man and you are after all…"

"Don't finish that sentence. He's a man and therefore poses no danger."

"You really need to wise up, Sherlockina."

"I hate it when you use my birth name to emphasise I'm female."

"Must we?" Demery asked.

"Yes you may beat him in mostly everything, but as a woman you're at a disadvantage." Mycroft replied.

"I am at no disadvantage I can assure you." Sherlock replied, before standing up. "I'll get you that blasted PDA, Mycroft. Come on, John. Oh and send me Kitty Winter's address. I would like to speak to her on my own."

* * *

A/N A bit different from the original story but I thought now PDA's instead of books, because they have more security. I also think Myky being Myky would know about the PDA etc. So I am so hoping that I didn't disappoint and if I did please tell me and I'll change it.

Te usual thank you to JaneEyre0 and PushToShove


	13. The Illustrious Client Part 3

Sherlock put her perfume on while John looked at her curiously as he tried to find a moment to speak. They were back at Baker Street, waiting on the details from Mycroft. Sherlock had gotten changed again, and she had washed her hair.

"You should umm dry your hair before you get ill." he said, concerned. Harry had always told him to go away with profane language when he said that to her, but Sherlock looked up at him and smiled.

"I'll just put in a plait . It'll be fine. I've not got time to dry it."

"Why did you not tell me that you're mother had died when I met you, in the lab? I assume she died around that time. Well at least her funeral was around that time."

"Did Mycroft tell you, that?" she asked as she did her hair into the plait.

"No."

"Then how could you have known?" she asked.

"You had a suit on when I first met you. You don't like ties, and the day after you were wearing a skirt and heels."

She dropped her hairbrush. "That was good work of you." she complimented. "I've taught you a lot in the past few months."

"It's why he took your phone off of you. It could only have been Mycroft. He confiscated it from you for something to do with the funeral."

"The day before the funeral was the day I met you and I had to talk to the funeral director." Sherlock walked into the kitchen. "The day after was the funeral."

"You seemed quite happy for someone who just lost their mother!" John snapped.

"John I lost her a long time before that. We hadn't spoken since my…well since I was seven or eight."

Her voice was calm and it made John speechless, but he couldn't see her face at that time. Before he could talk to her more her mobile text alert went off. She walked inside, and picked it up. "Kitty Winter, we'll go and see her first. I need to know about this man. She seems to know a lot and I want to know how."

Kitty Winter answered her flat door to see Sherlock and John. "Miss Winter, may I have a moment of your time, please?" Sherlock asked.

"I'm sorry who are you?" she asked. She was always cautious. After all, she'd been one of Gruner's conquests, sadly. She thought he cared about her. But sadly he didn't. She didn't put it past him to send someone to kill her. He had already tried.

"Forgive me. I am Sherlock Holmes and this is my friend, Dr John Watson. We've just come from speaking to my brother and Sir Demery. I believe you've already spoken to them."

"Oh Miss Holmes, yes of course. You're Mycroft Holmes' younger sister. He mentioned you briefly when I spoke to him. Come in."

She led Sherlock in to a sitting room, and John followed. She told them to sit down. "I am sorry to have called upon you so early but the quicker Gruner is…"

"I understand public identity and all that."

"I assure you Miss Winter that public images are not why I'm doing this." Sherlock replied, and John wondered why exactly she was doing it.

"You're different than your brother." Kitty commented.

"Thank you." Sherlock replied. John rolled his eyes.

"Forgive me when I ask this, Miss Winter but were you ever in a relationship with Gruner? It's just I can't help but question as to how you would know about the PDA."

"Yes. They never asked me that. Thy were just interested in the PDA." Kitty replied.

"How did you come across it?" John asked. Sherlock had her hands in a prayer shape.

"He asked me to get him his PDA from the living room. So I got it for him and then on my way back I realised I'd left my book in his study. So, I went in to get it and saw an identical PDA to his other one. It was still unlocked and that was when I found the lists."

"How long ago was this?" Sherlock asked.

"Three months ago. I had no idea he was married until I heard about her death. Or rather her murder."

"Was that when you got in touch with the Royal Family's PR man?" Sherlock asked.

"Well they found me, you see. But I was happy to tell them what I knew." Kitty replied. "He was rather controlling."

"Why didn't you leave him right away?"

"I couldn't. It was so very difficult. Every time I thought about leaving him…I forgot about it. Like I erased it from my mind."

John saw Sherlock raise an eyebrow. "He leaves you, not the other way around. But when I saw that list it was like I woke up and was able to make my own choices. I just left, leaving him a note."

"And that's when he came after you for revenge." Sherlock deduced.

"Yes…how. I never told…?"

"You've faint marks on your neck from plastic surgery. It isn't a difficult leap to theorize that it was him. I can't imagine anyone else wanting to harm you." Sherlock replied. "Sorry."

"No. It's very very faint. Not many people notice."

"I read his file. He likes antiquities. Particularly items from the Victorian era. Is that true?" Sherlock asked.

"That wasn't in the file." John stated.

"I'm sorry Miss Winter, thankfully my friend here is here to keep right. It was not stated in plain text but there were photos of around the house and I observed. How you always seen, John but yet you don't observe."

"He did take pleasure in collecting antiques. It was I who handed the pictures in. I have more if you like?"

"It's quite alright." Sherlock replied. "Do you have a layout of the house at all?"

"Actually I do." Kitty replied. She got up and handed Sherlock a sheet of paper. "I also know that tomorrow he has his little annual party. He uses the same invitations every year as well, only the date changes and yes I do have an old one somewhere if you'd like to look at it."

Something shined in Sherlock's eyes as she smiled at the woman before here. "Thank you that will be most helpful. Look at that John, a model client."

Kitty smiled. "Funny. I expected someone a lot less polite going by what I heard your brother say to Demery."

"Well, I've had my coffee so I'm okay." Sherlock, quipped. "Thank you very much, Miss Winter. That will be all. I do apologise for bothering you."

"Not at all. I'll do anything to help. He needs to be arrested and stopped. What if this Violet person he's engaged to is going to be the next to die."

"With me on the case, that will not happen."

Kitty handed Sherlock the invitation and then a piece of card. "Here's my mobile number. If you need me again, just give me a phone."

"Thank you, Miss Winter." Sherlock replied. John smiled to her, before following Sherlock out of the flat.

* * *

A/N Thanks very much to PushToShove and JaneEyre0


	14. The Illustrious Client Part 4

"You know you were actually quite nice, in there." John said, in the taxi on the way back to Baker Street. He looked over to Sherlock. She was looking out of the window not paying attention. Her phone rang, and she answered it.

"Hello, Mycroft." she answered calmly.

"How are you getting on?" he asked.

"Fine. I'll let you know if I find out anything new about the PDA."

She ended the call before he could say anything else.

When they were back at Baker Street, Sherlock made a photocopy of the house plan, and scanned it into the computer. Once that was done she put it up at the mantelpiece. "It's my little evidence mash up area." she explained to John.

"Yeah. It's good. It's really good. It covers up the mirror." John replied with a faint smile.

"Who need mirrors?" she replied.

"Well, for instance you would need it to look at yourself in." John, replied.

"Why do I want to look at my reflection? All I'll end up seeing is me."

If Harry had said that to John he would say it was because she was depressed but because Sherlock had said it he didn't know. He didn't know how to react. Was she being depressed, or was she in one of her usual eccentric moods?

She walked over to the desk and wrote on a piece of paper. "John would you go to the stationary shop for me, please? It would be of massive help."

She handed him some money and a card with writing regarding what she wanted. "Yes, I'll go. Are you not coming?"

"No, I have something I need to do."

"Alright." John replied. "I'll get the shopping while I'm out."

"Yeah. Thanks." she replied.

Just as John got to the staircase, Sherlock began playing her violin. She was playing in a minor key and it sounded rather beautiful in a sad way. John shook it off and went downstairs to the front door and left.

When he came back he was carrying several bags. He handed Sherlock one of them. "That's what you wanted."

"Thanks, John." she said sincerely, before taking it to the printer. She put a piece of card in and the clicked the print option in the menu on the computer.

"Don't tell me you're printing the invitation."

"I've got it down to the font size, font type and card John. It's the best forgery ever. Besides, we're not staying for long. I just need to speak to him."

"About what?" John asked.

"I'm going to confront him about murdering his wife."

"No. No. You're not. He'll kill you!"

"He can try but he'll fail."

"Don't give me because he's a man, Sherlock! That makes it so much more worse!"

"Why?" she replied.

John shook her off. "Sherlock you are…absolutely utterly stupid sometimes. Just stupid. You're a five year old genius stuck in a twenty seven year old woman's body! And just out of curiosity how come you don't make comments about me being a man?"

"Because you're not a man, John. You're John!"

John faltered when he saw the way she said it. She was being serious. She actually was being serious. Beyond it though he was touched, she held him on a higher regard than most.

"What about you father was he just your father or was he…"

Suddenly she began playing her violin and John decided not to question more in to Sherlock's family. It was bad enough there was rivalry going on between Mycroft and Sherlock. At least he'd discovered that Sherlock did have a dislike for mostly all men expect him and that her father and mother were a touchy subject. _"Perhaps she just hates her family." _

John sat down. "So you're just going to risk your life. To prove what?"

"It'll all fit together, John."

"Do you need my help?" John asked.

"Actually yes, I do."

John's face lit up until she handed him a folder. "I want you to be able to sell what's in there to Gruner."

"What tomorrow?"

"Oh no, even I couldn't learn all that for tomorrow's party. Well actually I could but it would be too boring. Just trust me on this will you, John?"

"Fine."

"Good. Besides you're not going to the party. I can't have him recognising you."

"Sherlock…" John began. "You can't go yourself. You need back up."

"No I don't!"

Sherlock wore an evening dress to the party at Gruner's home, in London. He had a doorman, to whom she handed the invitation to. If John was there he'd be panicking but Sherlock didn't. The doorman smiled and she stepped inside.

Once inside she saw Violet, standing beside Gruner. _"Uses her as a bolt on accessory; how typical of a man." _

Gruner's eyes fell on Sherlock when she looked away to look at the antiquities and he excused himself from Violet to talk to her. "Good evening. I see you are interested in my collection."

"I prefer skulls. Of course ones donated to medical science, and not because someone has been murdered."

"You honestly don't believe what you saw in the papers, or on the television do you Miss…"

"Holmes. Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock replied. "Yes, I do. Not because I trust them, but I observe. Just like I've observed that you've smoked three cigars before I came in, drank two bottles of wine, and pushed your fiancé into a wall."

"Your accusations…"

"Observations. I was wondering if I could talk to you about your late wife."

"Of course, come with me." he replied, over pleasantly. He didn't want Sherlock causing a scene.

He took her to his study and he sat down on his chair. "Aren't you going to sit down, Miss Holmes?"

"No." she replied.

She took a file out of her bag. "Evidence to prove that you killed her."

"So what if I did Miss Holmes?"

"I think you should confess."

Gruner laughed. "I'll confess to you but not the police. Yes I did. So what?"

"I'll go and tell them then, I am on very good terms with a detective inspector."

"I know a Frenchman who was crippled for life after a few of my men thought that my reputation could be hurt." he retorted.

"I don't understand how this has any significance." Sherlock feigned obviousness. "I'll be going now."

"Enjoy your ability to walk while you still can!" commented Gruner.

"Enjoy not being in a cell, Mr Gruner."

Sherlock left. When she was gone, Gruner picked up the phone. "I've a little problem." he stated. "Her name is Sherlock Holmes. She's leaving now. Long, curly wavy hair, and a light blue dress…Yes the tall one with the distinctive cheekbones...Don't kill her, just give her a little warning. Not in the face though, you might cut yourself on her cheekbones for one and secondly it's a nice face."


	15. The Illustrious Client Part 5

The next morning when John woke up he switched on the tv to watch the news. "Sherlock, how was it? Sherlock?!" he called.

He shrugged, and sat down on the sofa with a bowl of cereal as he watched the news.

_"A woman who was looking for a taxi to take her home last night was attacked by a gang of thugs. She was rushed to Saint Bartholomew's hospital, half an hour after the incident after a 999 call made by a woman walking her dog. Not much else is known about her, except that she's unable to be taken off oxygen due to a deflated lung. The details on the woman's bank card suggest that her name is Sherlockina Holmes. This can't be confirmed until she wakes up in hospital."_ a news reporter said.

_"Isn't it terrible that we can't go out in the street anymore but this happens?" _

_"It is indeed."_

John let his bowl clank on the coffee table, before switching off the television. _"Sherlockina, I am going to kill you! You just had to do it, didn't you!?"_

After speaking to half a dozen nurses John finally found Sherlock's room. He stepped inside and found her. She was standing up and gathering up her things. "Are you alright?"

"Fine." she replied.

"You were meant to have a deflated lung."

Sherlock laughed. "I'm fine John. Almost did but my ribs haven't done that much damage." she replied, rubbing one of her aching ribs. "I'll live. Besides I knew he'd do that anyways."

"You knew and you let it happen?"

"Yes." Sherlock replied.

"I don't understand you!"

"Do elaborate." she replied, turning around to face him.

"This is more than an ordinary hate for men, Sherlock. Something is wrong with your head! You could have been killed! Then where would you be!?"

"Six feet under?" she suggested.

"Sherlock, I get it you hate men and you think you're better but that shouldn't cloud your brilliant do this to yourself!"

"I agree, Doctor Watson." Mycroft's voice, sounded. "If I had known she was going to be childish about this, I would have not let Demery seek her help."

"Don't give me that nonsense, brother dearest. Of course you would have. You wouldn't want to let down my illustrious client, now would you?"

Mycroft winced. "At least I can see you're alright. Whatever did you do to provoke, him?"

"I merely told him that he killed his wife, which he already knew and then I laid out the evidence in a file for him. A copy of course. I must say I thought you were reading along my lines. After all I didn't even have to call you. Already you had the media say I was in hospital and that I was on oxygen."

"Because you pose no threat to Gruner anymore if you're in hospital and he won't worry about you enough to kill you."

"Your concern makes me nauseous." Sherlock replied. She handed, Mycroft her mobile phone. "Umm. I do want it back."

"Why have you given this to me?"

"He confessed to murdering her, unaware that I was recording it. It's on a video. Not much was happening in my handbag, though I'm afraid. Fortunately it wasn't found when I was attacked."

"You need to show this to Violet." Mycroft, explained.

"Oh dear no, that would not possibly snap her out of her senses. He's probably already covered that up with some lame excuse. Besides, it's going to take the list on the PDA to snap her out of it. John are you coming? I have an idea."

When she was at the hospital room door she turned back around to Mycroft. "By the way keep feeding things to the media for me. They can't possibly know that I've gone back to Baker Street."

"Try not to get in to anymore trouble on your way home."

Sherlock began playing her violin when she got inside much to John's annoyance. "You have a problem with the way I do things don't you?" she asked John.

"I do!" John replied. "Don't you see you could have got yourself killed?"

"Oh they were only three men."

"Three? They outnumber you, Sherlock! What's your problem!?"

"I don't have a problem." she replied, suddenly. "There is not a man with enough intelligence on this earth to ever beat me and I'm merely stating the fact. I don't even know any women who could either. Indeed, Miss Winter is very clever but not clever enough and you are very clever John but again not clever enough. A foolish little man is not going to kill me."

"Three of that foolish little man's men almost killed you."

"It was never the idea to kill me." she replied.

"I get feminism. I really do, Sherlock because I've got a sister but you…what you're doing is not feminism! It's mental! It's psychotic! You need help!"

She stopped playing her violin and put it down. "I appreciate your concern, John; I really do, but I have it covered. I have not developed hate for the male population because of feminism. I couldn't care less about being on equality with men. I could never be equal to any female or male on this earth."

"Sherlock, you don't get it! You really don't get it and I'm just wasting my breath with you!"

"Well since I am lying low for a week I think I'll sleep."

"No, Sherlock! I'm tired of just going along with your vagueness! I would like to know what's going on! Or I won't help at all!"

Sherlock looked at him and nodded. "Do forgive me, Doctor Watson. I sometimes forget things."

"Like your adult side of your brain."

"You're angry and frustrated and I understand. But come next week you'll be better. Because we're going to get that PDA. I have a plan!"

"Does this plan, involve you getting beat up again because I might have something to say about that!"

She looked at him, question in her eyes. She was stunned, shocked, confused. Why was she confused, was John's question.

"What?" he asked, looking at her.

"Nothing." she replied. She sighed and sat down. "I asked you to look at the file I gave you last night. I want you to be able to sell it to Gruner."

"Oh yes those Chinese Vases." John replied.

"Not just any Chinese Vases. The only two left of their kind. So I need you to know as much about them as possible while you pretend to sell them to him. At that time I'll be going in the house and retrieving the PDA."

"But you won't know where it is!" John, replied.

"Oh yes I will." Sherlock replied.

* * *

A/N The usual thank you to PushToShove and JaneEyre0 Also, I was thinking of doing the blog reports from John After each story should I do it or should I just uploaded them to another wesbite and link in my profile? Let me know.


	16. The Illustrious Client Part 6

A week passed of Sherlock remaining catatonic while John memorised everything she gave him in the file. He would've said no but she would have ended up doing something that would kill herself just to prove the point she was better than all men and women on the planet.

Mycroft constantly rang John's phone to check up on her but John had no idea what state she was in. It could almost be said she was living in her own little world. A world of murders, robberies and other crimes she would much rather be solving. She didn't take long to snap out of it when Kitty Winter arrived in Baker Street's living room. John was pleased at the woman's arrival. He was beginning to worry about Sherlock as she blocked herself out. He didn't even think she had ate or drank anything.

"Ah Miss Winter, do sit down."

"Hello again." John greeted her.

"Doctor Watson." she replied.

"Did she react as I thought?" Sherlock asked.

"Exactly."

"What's going on?" John asked.

"Miss Winter has just saw Violet and warned her about what will happen with to her if she marries Gruner. Mental torture and that kind of thing not to mention she will be...ummm...cheated on do they call it? And also there's the possibility that she could be murdered by him. She has also shown her my file of the evidence that proves he is a murderer and yes John she didn't believe it. The point is the doubt is now there. It's lingering in the back of her head."

Sherlock stood up and tapped John's forehead. "You can't kill an idea. Not once it's made a home, here. Naturally once she sees all of the photos and and the database of all his woman it will all combine and add up and then we will let her hear the recording I got."

John and Kitty both sat bewildered by her fast pace of speaking. They both felt like children in the supermarket eyeing up a toy or a sweet and having to catch up within their mother only to fall behind and look at it again to begin the process all over again.

"So adding up..." began John.

"Mental torture, John. They shut down and let themselves be manipulated. It's not their fault it happens but sometimes there is a wake up call that we need and we get that and that's what Violet needs.

John looked at Sherlock and nodded. "Okay, then. Do you know where the PDA is?"

"Leave that to me John."

"What did you say your name was? I am sorry I was rather preoccupied when I got your phone call." Gruner asked John as he led him in to the living room.

"Hill Barton."

"Ah yes, I remember now. I do hope you do not mind but when you told me about the vases I had friends of mine check out your credibility and of course the authenticity of the vases." John had to hold in a swallow. " Forgive my distrust it was not well misplaced."

"I understand." John replied.

"How much do yo think the suggested bidding will be?"

"Two million we are hoping and then of course it will hopefully get more."

"I see. I have been interested in these two pieces since they went missing in China."

"Ah yes I am not aware of the full story but we believe that the anonymous seller smuggled it in."

"No matter it is up for sale, now."

"We believe that these vases sold separately will get approximately five million each."

Gruner swallowed.

"Do you think you will have that kind of money to bid with next week?"

"I assure you Mr Barton I will have the money."

"Good!" John replied.

"May I keep the information on the vases?" Gruner asked.

"Of course." John replied.

When he was gone Gruner made his way to his study and picked up his phone. "Hello Mr De Merville, I am so pleased you are on leave...Violet will never come back until I am done with her and oh by the way I think I wan to share my photos and lists and videos and all my other wonderful things on my PDA...then get in touch with that blasted PR man and tell him to call me."

After the phone call Gruner made his way to his bookshelves and pulled on a brown book before removing a box from his a hidden safe. He walked over to his desk and removed a PDA from the box.

"My wonderful collection. Sad that only two names are going to make me my millions but I could always find more women of the famous variety."

He put the PDA back in its box and back in the safe. When he was gone he made his way downstairs. He got a phone call as he got down expecting Demery. Instead of Demery it was one of Gruner's own men. He heard Violet make her way inside. He sighed before answering his man. "It better be a good reason why you're bothering me."

"That Sherlockina Holmes woman. She has been out of hospital for a week."

"But the papers and the news..."

"Demery set it up!"

"Why would Demery...She was looking for the PDA."

"That's not all. That man who was at your house is not Hill Barton! He is Dr John Watson. Miss Holmes' colleague. She is a consulting detective for the police."

He ended the call. "Some ghastly woman was spreading rumours about you..."

"I have not got enough time, Violet!" he replied before running up to his study. He heard police sirens outside. He felt angry and annoyed.

"What is it?" Violet asked, walking in to the study to see him looking at the empty box.

"What woman was spreading rumours about me?"

"I don't know there was no name."

"You didn't ask?!" he shouted at her.

"That's enough!" Sherlock's voice said firmly as she emerged from a chair in the dark corner. "The wonders of wearing dark clothes and having dark hair."

"You absolute bitch! Where is my PDA?"

Sherlock waved it in her hand.

"It's password protected you will never..."

"In a manner of speaking. You really should look around your study more! I was watching you the whole time you were in here."

"Get out of our home!" Violet ordered.

"The police are outside to arrest you for the murder of your wife, and for blackmail." Sherlock stated. She walked over to Violet and showed her the photos in the PDA. Violet looked at all the captions and nicknames and background information on them and all the information. They had gathered. She felt sick. Utterly sick. Sherlock took it back off of her and Lestrade and John came in.

In desperation Gruner lunged at Sherlock and grabbed her by the throat. "Interesting and what are you going to do now?" she asked calmly. She felt a gun at her head. Violet back off to stand next to John.

"How dull. Typical." Sherlock spoke.

"Let me go or I will kill her."

"Boring." Sherlock replied.

John was ready for shouting at him and the shouting at Sherlock and then Lestrade spoke. "Let her go and put the gun down.'

"As ever Lestrade your approach to situations is simply awesome." Sherlock said.

Gruner's threats continued and they had to let him downstairs and then Bruner pushed Sherlock on the ground. "I will make sure that you are hunted down and killed."

"Don't bother you won't make it out of here. Say hello to your old friend." Sherlock replied, nodding to the spot behind him. Gruner turned around to see Kitty and she hit him over the head with one of his heavy ornaments.

"Thank you, Kitty. Always rely on a woman to save the day."

Sherlock remove the PDA and showed Kitty the information about her. Kitty watched as Sherlock deleted it. "Between you and I."

"Thank you, Miss Holmes."

Sherlock nodded.


	17. The Illustrious Client Part 7

A/N John's blog update will be put in after this. I'll separate the last chapter with a line. I will be doing this after every story version I do. The Study in Pink one I haven't done because it's virtually same as one on John's Blog I have however edited it slightly and put it on deviant art. The link is in my profile. I will try to make it a realistic and I'll blank out the places and names like John does with ******* Thank you for all the support. Big thanks to JaneEyre0 and PushToShove.

* * *

John sat with Sherlock for the second time in Buckingham Palace. She held the PDA in her hands as she waited on Demery to come and collect it. He couldn't help but notice how sad she looked. It was the first time he'd saw such an expression on her face since he'd first met her where she introduced her skull as a friend. It would not do for him to question what he saw to her, or even state it. She would ignore him if she didn't want to talk about it. She looked fragile that day. Almost like a young girl or a little doll. He couldn't help but feel sorry for her and a little useless. If only he knew what was wrong and how to deal with it. He hadn't felt such concern since, Harry. Harry never sought his help because she didn't need it. Sherlock never sought his help because she didn't want to be weak. It was not rocket science to those who dug a little deeper with Sherlock to know that if something made her sad it had to be very deep and that worried John. Truly.

Sherlock didn't look up at the sound of footsteps but John did and he saw Mycroft. Sherlock held her hand out, without looking up still and handed him the PDA. "Demery is busy at the moment." Mycroft stated. "I told him that I would deal with this. Thank you very much, Sherlock. You have done well." John was sure he saw Sherlock's knuckles clench up. "I do however think that you could have went about it in a smarter way and informed us of your plans."

Sherlock never said anything. John looked at her, thinking that she would but she never. Sherlock stood up and nodded to her brother before walking away. John began to follow her and when they were out of the Palace they looked for a taxi. Finally they found one. When inside John had to speak and end the long silence between them.

"Shame we will never know who our client was."

"I assure you that we is not a pronoun you should use." Sherlock said airily. There was a proud tone in their but at the same time a sort of mock sound of insult and John smiled.

"You know, don't you?" John asked.

"Of course I know. By the way. I got you a birthday present." she replied, before handing him an ash tray she'd stolen from the palace.

"Thank you." John said, gratefully.

"Happy Birthday, John." she said with one of her most genuine smiles.

"My birthday is not until tomorrow."

"I might be in my mind palace then." she replied, seriously and somewhat expressing of a black mood.

John could not help but wonder if she ever would stop being depressed. He figured that's why she blocked herself out from the world. He didn't know why. Why was she unhappy? Why did she detest all men? Why does she despise her brother so much? He sighed. Life with Sherlock was always filled with questions.

* * *

**Wed 30****th**** March – The Illustrious Client**

Tuesday last week, I woke up to silence, which is rather unusual for me because Sherlock's violin playing nearly always wakes me up. So I got dressed and went downstairs to find Sherlock lying on the sofa. I swear she was going mad because we've not had a case in a while. She was bored as usual I ignored her and went to have my breakfast but we didn't have anything in. I complained to Sherlock who made it clear to me it was not her responsibility. So I leave her there to be languid and remain in her pyjamas while I go out in to the real world to a do a real job, and get the shopping. So I get a taxi, as you do when you go out shopping and the taxi driver takes me to a car park. Going by my experiences with cabbies I was a bit concerned but I knew with the way Sherlock had been ignoring her brother's phone calls lately it had to be *** *** doing.

There was a black car there where I found ***. She took me to **** ****. I could honestly not believe I was there. I found Sherlock on a sofa there handcuffed and she still hadn't even gotten dressed. That was always so typical of her. She was in ***** ***** and she had not even bothered getting her clothes on. Apparently she'd given the guy who brought her grief because he was a man. Typical of her. She hates men! Really and truly! As ***** said when he came she looked like she'd just gotten out of hospital. Then she complained because I didn't get her cigarettes when I was out, and *** and her ended up in an argument. **** scoffed at her want for one and I commented on how I only didn't let her get them because I was looking out for her. She smiled. A genuine smile. I was quite honoured.

Then in came a man named *** **** and he told Sherlock that she basically had an anonymous client. She refused. Flat out refused because she doesn't do anonymous clients apparently but he wanted to state his case none the less and so she got changed and lost the handcuffs.

So, this anonymous client had asked **** to employ Sherlock to find a PDA which had names, addresses, photos…you name it on it of all the women that it's owner had 'collected' because it would be scandalous if two names in particular got out. It didn't seem like Sherlock's thing this case even though that the man with the PDA was a non-convicted murderer, it just didn't seem like Sherlock's case. But she took it on anyway, and she went to see **** **** who had informed Sherlock's brother and **** about the PDA when they had sought out her help. Believe it or not Sherlock was very kind to **** **** and she got house plans, and an invitation to an old party that never changes every year.

Sherlock left with **** **** number and went home. She sent me to get card while I was out shopping and she made a replica of the invitation only with the new date. It was a brilliant copy actually. She knows her comic sans from her Times New Roman that is for sure. She also asked me to research in to two vases which were the last of their kind. So I did. I studied the file while she went a party the following day with that invitation. What annoyed me was she went there to anger this man with the PDA, so that he'd send his men out to give her a bashing up. Apparently it was nothing because it was men! Seriously she's got a problem. I don't know what it is but she's got a problem. I asked her why she didn't have a problem with me and she said "you're different John. You're John." or something like that. It's a strange world she lives in and I do hope one day she'll realise that even though with feminism in the world etc that she's still at risk of being put in danger by a man as much as she is by a woman and if in fact gender does make the difference. Not because they are any more capable than her but because more vulnerable to men and she can be so naïve at times that it puts her at risk. Why does she hate men though? I don't get it. If she hates them why is she not afraid? If she thinks them harmless why does she hate them? Mistrusts them? Think them for nothing? But then again she thinks of everyone that way.

Three men ganged up on her and that was while I was asleep. If I'd been there it would never have happened because I would have kicked the living day lights out of them! Am I going to have to ground Sherlock to her room, these days? She's a child. A vulnerable child who needs help and I think people fail to see that.

So when I heard on the news about her being hurt. I thought she was at death's door and I got a cab to that hospital. Ready to see her almost dead. Absolutely angry I was at them, and she was getting ready to leave bold as brass and nothing at all wrong with her! Well I wouldn't say nothing at all. A few bruises on her neck and some bad bruises to her ribs but apart from that she was fine. She handed **** her phone when he came in. (I am not going to start on her argument with him) and apparently the phone had a confession on it. Not to mention Sherlock had compile evidence against him but for the sake of saving a scandal, Sherlock had to stop the marriage between the criminal who sent his men after her and his soon to be wife.

So for a week Sherlock lay low and I swear to God she shut everyone out. She didn't eat, she never slept and she didn't drink. I worry about her sometimes. It makes me wonder if can turn off a part of her brain or something. It would not surprise me. But ***** a week later (Yesterday) and she spoke to Sherlock about talking to the criminal's fiancée and warning her about him. Apparently the fiancée had reacted as expected by Sherlock and Sherlock then told me to phone this criminal up (I know, if Sherlock was reading this she'd kill my lack of words) and I told him I was from an auction company and I wanted to talk to him about the vases. So I did my part and went later. Basically Sherlock wanted me to talk about high expenses costs. She needed him to need to use his PDA for scandalous use. To blackmail. Sherlock found the PDA using this method and managed to use it to stop the marriage that was about to happen and when the police came the bastard grabbed Sherlock with the throat and what angered me most of all, there was no drop of fear in her cold blue eyes. Not one and she goaded him. Said she was bored. Does she want to die?! Does she?! So he put a gun to her head and took her downstairs. Thankfully **** was waiting down there and she hit him over the head with an ornament. Sherlock complimented her. I couldn't be too sure though.

Later on at **** *** because we had to go back and give the PDA in, Sherlock was quiet very quiet. I must say, that I was glad Sherlock took the case. That bastard was behind bars. He was abusive, mentally and physically, I mean he was horrible to women and I just didn't like him. What worries me is, she sees all men to be that way - Sherlock. Horrible, and twisted. I worry. I truly do.

She gave the PDA to her brother and left. In the taxi she gave me a birthday present and she seemed happy for a moment just a moment and I was glad because before we left **** she seemed so very sad. I didn't understand it. Then she went back to her depressive self, talking about her mind palace. Why is she like this? Can I help her? I wish I could but I don't know how. I don't think I'll ever know. All I can do is continue to be there. I guess life with Sherlock will never be easy.


	18. Diplomatic Secrets Part 1

a/n Based roughly on the plot of The Adventure of the Second Stain. The title came from something Holmes said. "We all have our diplomatic secrets." A big thanks to all of you for sticking by me. :D

* * *

Sherlock was sitting on her arm chair reading. John was out with some friends who were on military leave. What was unusual was the fact she was quite calm. It had merely been a week, since she'd last had a case. With the amount of cases they'd been getting lately and the amount of press report, it was a wonder Sherlock hadn't gone in to depression from a lack of work to do within in three days, never mind a week. That was because, Sherlock was feeling rather unwell. She never said so to anyone but she was ill. She always had a pale complexion so it was hard to tell when she was under the weather and since she didn't like to draw attention to herself at her weakest she never said anything.

When she'd finished her book she got up and strolled over to her laptop. With a few key clicks she was logged on to John's blog. Before he'd left he had put up an update to his blog about the case him and Sherlock had recently done and Sherlock had to agree with John. It was so easy Lestrade could have solved it. So, she never dwelled on it and continued to read John's comments on the "Red Headed League" . John had no idea that Sherlock read his blog. Sherlock could see all of John's thoughts about her and her work on the blog, and then mock them without him being there. It gave her something to do.

As she finished reading all the comments after the entry, she logged off and went upstairs to go and sleep. She was exhausted.

John woke up with a hangover in the morning and the sound of the doorbell ringing downstairs didn't help. He got up and walked downstairs to find Sherlock answering the door. _"Is she ill or something?" _John thought. He walked into the living room and found a glass of water on the coffee table and paracetamol next to it. Stuck on the box was a note. **"Get well soon, John! I need you at your optimum fitness. All the best your madwoman for a flatmate."**

John laughed and sat down. "John, I'm going out!" Sherlock shouted, her throat going a little hoarse.

"Where are you going?" replied John. Suddenly he frowned. He realised Sherlock's voice was off. He walked downstairs to find two suited people outside. _"If she's going with them she's ill."_

"I'll come." John replied.

"Well that would be wise because you've been requested too, Mr Watson."

"Oh gentlemen, Dr Watson is the correct form of address for my friend!" Sherlock replied, haughtily. John turned around and walked upstairs smiling. "Sherlock, go and get your coat. It's getting colder out there."

Sherlock sighed and walked upstairs.

"So what could Mycroft want us for this time?" John asked.

Sherlock shrugged and sighed, before looking out of the window. "I could not tell you, John. I have never understood, Mycroft's mind and I don't think that I will ever will and nor will I ever want to."

"Why do you hate him?" John asked, causing Sherlock to sigh.

She hung her head low and smiled. It wasn't her eerie polite smile or her actual genuine smile it was a wry one and it scared John. "I don't hate him at all. I never have. That's a common misconception. They see the sociopath and assume that I hate. I do not hate because hate has a fine line between love and the further I am away from such a horrible chemical defect the better."

"Is that why you hate men so much? You do hate them; I know you do! Why else would you personally try to take them down all on your own all the time or insult them? You have a personal vendetta out against them."

"I do not. They have them out on me."

"Women dislike you as well. Look at Donavon."

"And Harry." Sherlock added.

"I'm sorry about that."

"It's fine. I shouldn't have answered her back."

"At least you weren't swearing."

"Why was she angry at me?"

"She's scared you'll kill me."

Sherlock laughed "Like I would murder my only friend!" Sherlock replied. John swallowed. The way she said it was so brutally honest and sincere.

"Sherlock are you alright?" John asked. It was not like her to be so…well human.

"I'm fine. I'm always fine."

"So, back to men. You dislike them and you think them stupid."

"You misunderstand me, Dr Watson."

"Then tell me."

"I don't think all men stupid. They are! None of them are as clever as I and therefore they are idiots.. All of them."

"So you've never met a man as clever as you?"

"Exactly. I never will. Don't take it personally, women are stupid too! Just look at me."

John laughed.

The car stopped and silence fell. "Where are we?" John asked.

"I think we're outside the very very posh offices where all the men in suits with their soft clean hands make decisions and leave the dirty work for others."

John and Sherlock were led to a large conference room with a large table. "Take a seat, Dr Watson. Miss Holmes." a familiar female voice, spoke. They turned around to see Anthea. "Hello, Anthea." Sherlock greeted.

Anthea nodded and then Sherlock and John sat down. "Where is Mycroft?" John asked.

"He'll be here in a moment."

"That's a nice ash tray. We could add it to our collection." Sherlock stated as she pointed to a black glassed ash tray on the table. John hit her shoulder.

"Nah I prefer crystal. I like the finer things in life."

"So this is the famous Sherlockina Holmes and Dr Watson!" a voice greeted them. They turned around to see the last person they thought to see walk in the room. Or rather the last person John expected to walk in to the room.

Despite not knowing who this person was Sherlock knew right away what his position was by observation. Mycroft stepped in and Anthea left. Sherlock began to wonder if Anthea was just babysitting her and John until Mycroft got there. He stood at the seat next to Sherlock's.

"Sherlockina this is…" Mycroft began to whisper.

"I knew who it is." Sherlock replied, whispering.

"How can you?" John whispered.

"He's the prime minister. My guess is some trouble has happened and he needs my help."

"Listen to what he has to say. You might make some money."

"Like I need money."

"You will if you want to buy all that perfume you like in bulk. It's going out of production from what I hear."

Sherlock sighed. The prime minister stopped reading what he was reading and sat down, signalling for Mycroft to do so as well. Someone else came and Sherlock sighed. _"Foreign secretary."_

"Dr Watson and Miss Holmes; I am grateful that you decided to come."

_"Like we had a choice." _Sherlock thought.

Mycroft made a sigh of relief when Sherlock just smiled and nodded. _"Is she ill?" he thought. _

"Miss Holmes we have a delicate matter to discuss this morning." The Prime Minister spoke to her again.

"I am sure. Why else would the most important man in Britain and certainly one of the most influential in the world need the help of a consulting detective?" Sherlock replied.

_"I'm taking her to the hospital." _John thought.

"You're too kind, Miss Holmes. Those are words that have never been used except by people in my own party."

"Believe me, sir she's not always so charming." Mycroft pitched in.

"Whatever is the problem?" Sherlock asked.

The prime minister sighed. "Let me start from the beginning Miss Holmes."


	19. Diplomatic Secrets Part 2

The Prime Minister began to explain the situation to Sherlock. "Please allow me to introduce my foreign secretary, Trelawney Hope."

Hope looked and Sherlock and John and gave a simple nod. Sherlock had to hold in a sigh. "You see a member of a very restricted defence party I have has inadvertently and through no fault of their own lost a USB drive. On the USB drive is a very delicate and confidential material that we must get back."

"How did you lose the USB drive Mr Hope?" Sherlock asked the foreign secretary. The Prime Minister looked shocked. So did Hope. John looked at Sherlock, wondering if she would say something impolite.

"Miss Holmes you've lived up to your reputation." The Prime Minister commented.

Sherlockina smiled, wryly. "I assure you've I have not. It was only a simple piece of observation and deduction."

"It was my turn to take home the USB drive." Hope explained. "So I did."

"Excuse me for interrupting but just why on earth would member of the party be taking it home with them?" Sherlock asked. "You have a secret service of some sorts or are they all on desk duty?...Ah but wait. What's on this USB is so sensitive it could cause something horrible happen, am I right? Why else would you be consulting me?"

"What's on this USB drive can't be known at all by anyone. Leaving it with any form of secret service is dangerous. We have moles, and security leaks. Three a day on average." The Prime Minister spoke. "Before your brother came we had a lot more."

John's eyes widened.

"Well congratulations for employing the right Holmes. He certainly takes his job very seriously. So when you got home what were your security measures on the UBS drive, Mr Hope?"

"When I got home I took it straight to my safe." he explained.

"Digital or old fashioned?"

"Digital." he replied.

"When did you notice it was missing?"

"It was there in the evening when I was getting ready for dinner because I checked inside. Both my wife and I are easily woken up and we are both prepared to say that no one could have entered the room last night to get to that safe. Even then they have to know the passcode."

"When did you have your dinner?" Sherlock asked.

"At seven thirty, Miss Holmes."

"When did you go to bed that night?" Sherlock asked. John was looking on at her worried. She would normally have made a comment by now about the man's intellect or something along those lines. It was amazing how simple things like not insulting someone could make John worry about her. Mostly because it just wasn't her not to do that.

"Do you know when you went to bed?"

"At around eleven thirty, Miss. I stayed awake while I waited upon my wife arriving from the theatre. I do not settle when she's out."

Sherlock nodded. "So what you are telling me that the safe was left unseen to for four hours?" Sherlock deduced. As usual it sounded as if she was talking to herself.

"I assure you Miss Holmes that no one is allowed access to that room except my wife and I and of course my housemaid in the morning and my own personal valet during the day."

"Forgive me but are you sure that they are…" began Sherlock.

"They are both quite trustworthy and they've been with my family for years as has their own! Besides none of them could have known the safe code for one and secondly its contents."

"And what about your wife? Did she know about its contents?" questioned Sherlock.

"Until this morning I have not spoken to my wife about this matter. I don't really speak to her about my job at all."

Sherlock went to speak but Mycroft interrupted her. Too distrusting of her not to say anything that would offend anyone. "I think that my sister is merely trying to find out who does know about the existence of the USB drive."

"As soon as this USB drive was in our possession we had a meeting. In that meeting I myself made everyone in that room swear under the most solemn of circumstances not to mention it to any other person outside!" The Prime Minister stated.

"As far as we are aware, no one in England knows about its existence and the person who stole it obviously wants its contents known." Mycroft spoke.

"Outside England?" Sherlock asked them.

"The person who sent it." Mycroft replied.

"Would it be impertinent to ask what is on this backing storage device that has mysteriously disappeared?"

The room fell silent and Sherlock and John shared a look. "We can't…" began the Prime Minister.

"Of course you can't." she replied, before standing up.

"Sherlockina…" began Mycroft.

"With all due respect, Prime Minister, and of course Mr Hope – I am afraid I can't be of service to you. Whatever is on this USB drive is dangerous. If people find out about its contents it will be destructive. How, exactly I don't know. But I have gathered from the way you speak it's of national importance, ie dangerous. Now I will probably end up putting Dr Watson in danger and maybe even myself and yet we have no idea why. That I can't ask my friend to do…"

John went to speak but the Prime Minister interrupted. "Yes you are right Miss Holmes. Please sit down."

Sherlock sat down and folded her arms. "Do continue."

"We obviously can't tell you every detail." The Prime Minister spoke. "Mycroft if you'd explain to your sister. You've had more experience."

"Sherlockina, what is on this USB stick is plans that have been constructed by a foreign country on a new way of murder and terrorism. If the public were to find out about this, there would be panic. Sheer and utter panic and we can't allow it. We don't know if this is real or not but the public still should not know. It leads to mistrust and then failure of security and that is exactly the intention of the sender."

"You will of course be given access to our resources to find out what happened."

"I suggest you prepare for panic, sir." Sherlock said, before standing up. "It's at a stage that even I can't fix it. It's probably changed hands more times than one can count. After all it was taken between half past seven and half past eleven at night. Probably sold on by now. I have no lead to follow. I have absolutely nothing. You can't make wine out of oxygen."

The Prime Minister sighed, followed by Mycroft.

"I will do what I can though." Sherlock spoke up.

"We will inform you of new developments if we have any." Hope spoke.

"You will do the same for us?" The Prime Minister asked.

"Of course. I'll tell my brother, anything that I find out."

The Prime Minister and Hope left and Sherlock looked over to Mycroft. "I do have three suspects."

"Do tell."

"In the past four months I have received several death threats from three men in particular to stay out of their affairs. From what I've gathered they are men who will sell anything to anyone with a high bid."

"You never told me about anyone threatening you." John spoke. "Oh wait…they are men why would you."

Sherlock began coughing. She ignored his comment and took a breath. "Oberstein, La Rothiere, and Eduardo Lucas. Find out where they are staying. I shall go and see them."

The door opened and in stepped a man with a file in his hand. "Mycroft. Good to see you. What are you doing here?"

"Oh I was just having a chat with my sister." Mycroft replied. "Goodbye Sherlockina."

A secretary walked in. "Sir, Mr Adler is here to see you." she said to her boss.

"Ah good bring him up. Mycroft you should stay and listen to what Adler has to say."

"I'll speak to him later." Mycroft replied. "For now I have a meeting."

The man nodded and then they all left. "Go home, take something for your sore throat and then I'll be in touch. You're not interviewing them alone."

"Oh yes I am." Sherlockina replied as they walked along the corridors.

"John try and talk some sense in to her!" Mycroft called.

"That will be right." John replied. "Talking to her is like talking to a sedated brick."

* * *

Big thanks to PushToShove and JaneEyre0. :D I changed some things about from the book. Let me know if it's not that good and I'll change it.


	20. Diplomatic Secrets Part 3

A/N I got a review saying that my description for female Sherlock was practically the same as someone else. I don't know how but I don't think it is. Maybe similar. I can assure you all that I don't copy other people's stories. I'm not like that. I have a wide imagination for my stories and I also based her looks of of Rachel Weisz (If that's how you spell her name. I know she's dating Daniel Craig). Also the very fact that it's an M Rated Johnlock fic, should probably be an indicator I've not read it. SO glad to clear that matter up. I don't want people going about thinking I'm a plagiarist! Anyway. I want to say a big thank you to, JaneEyre0 and a big thank you to PushToShove.

* * *

"Why didn't you tell me you weren't well?" John asked, concerned when they got home. Sherlock hung her coat up on the peg and made her way upstairs to the living room. "I hardly thought it was relevant and it's nothing. I get colds and flus and other things all the time."

"So you just put up with it?"

"Exactly, when I was little it wasn't that big a deal to be ill."

"Why?" John asked. Sherlock picked up her violin and began to play. She never replied. John sat down. "You should have told me about the threats."

"I'm used to it." she replied.

John's phone alert went off. He looked at his text message. "I assume she's giving you grief about keeping safe. Or she will be. Ask her about her little accident in Hyde Park. I am sure it will be enlightening. – MH."

John looked up. "What about Hyde Park?"

Sherlock's playing suddenly came to a halt and she looked at him. "Tell Mycroft that he'd be better using his time to find me my spies rather than bringing up matters of the past."

"What happened at Hyde Park?"

"Nothing you need to worry about." Sherlock replied, looking quite discontent. John blinked and Sherlock sat down on her armchair, where she let out a frustrated sigh. "It makes you wonder why you pay taxes, John."

"It does." he agreed. "You were charming in there. In the meeting. Well more charming than usual. Is that because you're not well. Maybe you're a little tired. You've been overdoing it lately with the amount of cases. Perhaps you should rest."

"I'll be alright, John."

"You are allowed to be ill you know. It's part of being human."

"How horrible that word is."

"What? Ill?"

"No. Human." she replied. "Feeble and normal. That's not me."

John stood up and made his way to the cupboard, where he made her a cup of tea. "What are you doing?" she asked as he put lemon in to the cup. He walked over and handed it to her.

"You should drink it. It will help you. I used to make it for Harry."

Sherlock looked up at him with wide open eyes and for just one second John thought she would cry and then she smiled. "Well, thank you John. I don't know what to say."

"Maybe not." John thought.

"You're welcome."

"How is the hangover?"

"Better." he replied. "Look…back in the meeting. What you said…"

"I meant it. I was not just going to do something dangerous and get you involved. I told you on the way there. My only friend. There is one thing we can learn from this, John. Never trust a man to look after as USB stick."

John smiled; he had been waiting for a whole two hours to hear her say something like that. "My question is…even if someone did get in to that room. How on earth did they get in to the safe. The thing was obviously passcode protected." inquired The Army Doctor.

Sherlock put her violin on her shoulder to begin playing again.

"In a manner of speaking, John. Anyone could have the means to break into that safe by merely hacking or even simple deduction."

"Yeah…"

"Although it does still put it in to perspective. I wonder if Mycroft checked for fingerprints. Then again, someone like that would not want finger prints. Would have used gloves. God I'm slow, today."

She began to play again on the violin.

"What do you suppose is really on that USB stick?" John asked.

"Who knows." she replied.

"Do you think that the meeting going on afterwards had anything to do with it?" John asked.

"No. Besides, Mycroft would have stayed. He lied to his fellow man. I find it highly improbable that Mycroft would do that unless it was necessary."

"Good point." John replied.

"Why has Mycroft not got back to me?" she complained.

"Right well...I am going to go out and get milk and things. Shall I bring a newspaper in?"

"Oh yes please. I would love to see what they are printing about me now."

"Or me! Bachelor John Watson?! I am insulted!"

"But you are a bachelor." she stated bluntly.

"At least they aren't under the same impression of Harry's."

"Which is?" Sherlock asked.

"You don't want to know." John replied before leaving. Sherlock chuckled and stopped playing the violin before making her way to the window, to look outside. Her phone rang and she answered it. "Mycroft...Interesting...Far from coincidence...I will deal with it I am sure I can persuade Lestrade."

John was back within five minutes and he was breathless. He must have ran. "Sherlock, Eduardo Lucas is dead!"

"Murdered in fact. Mycroft has just phoned me and you will never guess the DI in charge?"

"Am I coming?" John asked.

"Why not?"

The doorbell rang as Sherlock ran upstairs, so John went to answer it. It was a woman. "Doctor Watson."

"Yes..."

"Is Miss Holmes here? I must speak with her."

"Well..." John began but the woman walked passed him and upstairs. John followed her and they both found Sherlock in the living room.

"Miss Holmes I believe you spoke to my husband at some point and he is seeking your help."

Sherlock finished buttoning up her coat, looking at the woman before her in question. "Mrs Hope, I presume?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes. I must ask that my visit to you remains unknown. My husband has lost a USB drive?"

"Sit down." Sherlock said, kindly. "You're aware of this how?"

She sat down. "My husband told me that what was in that safe is dangerous but no more than that. He said that he was going to get outside help. My husband is not one for tabloids and yet I found several of them in the house. All of which you were on the front page."

"Why are you here?" Sherlock asked.

"How dangerous are the contents of this thing?"

"I can't say much but from what I have gathered it would be quite devastating if its contents became known. In other words millions of lives are probably at stake and that sort of thing."

Mrs Hope put her hand to her mouth and then stood up. "And if they are not returned?"

"Too dreadful to think about by the looks of it." Sherlock replied.

"Thank you, Miss Holmes for your time. I will let myself out."

When she had gone Sherlock sat in her chair and put her hands in a prayer shape to touch he lips. "What was all that about?" John queried.

"I do not know precisely John but I believe Mrs Hope is guilty of hiding something. She is but yet another piece of a giant puzzle in all this and one not to be ignored."

John nodded, confused by Sherlock's reply. "Are we going?"

"Yes, sorry." Sherlock replied.


	21. Diplomatic Secrets Part 4

A/N quite different from original story let me know if it's horrible

Sherlock made her way up to the spy - Lucas' house. A policeman stood at the door and from inside she could hear Lestrade's raised voice. John followed behind her until Sherlock slipped and fell. "I meant to do that." she replied, standing up and sighing.

"Okay you have walked in to several walls and doors since we left the flat. You're not well, Sherlock."

"I am fine, John. I swear."

John turned around and thought he saw someone with a camera but a bus went by before he could look again and the man was gone. He shrugged it off and followed Sherlock inside. "Sherlock, thank goodness you're here. Perhaps you'll settle something for me.

Lestrade showed Sherlock some photos on his phone of the crime scene. She observed them carefully.

"Look at it now."

Sherlock walked into the living room. "This is where Lucas was found. Bled to death on the rug. Now that's..."

She put on gloves and examined under the rug. "I think someone has been tampering with your crime scene detective inspector Lestrade."

"Impossible!" the officer who Lestrade was shouting at spoke up.

"Who was on here except for your officers?"

"I left him and a few others in charge to guard the crime scene while we waited on getting everything we needed."

"Who was with you?" Sherlock asked the officer.

"Well it was me, Alejandro, Fred and Ruby."

"Ruby?" Lestrade questioned.

"Yeah. Ruby Dale."

"I only assigned Alejandro, Fred and you!"

"Interesting." Sherlock uttered.

Hilda Hope made her way in to Baker Street and up the stairs to the living room of 221 B, without knocking the door or ringing the bell. She found Sherlock sitting in her chair, smiling. "Miss Hope. Thank you for coming, please sit down."

She looked around. "I am afraid Doctor Watson is out at this moment in time."

The woman before her nodded.

"I know exactly what happened to your husband's USB drive."

"Really? Why are you talking to me, Miss Holmes?"

Sherlock stood up and put her hands in her pockets. "I don't think I quite knew how to tell your husband that it was his wife who had his USB drive all along."

"I resent the accusation, Miss Holmes!" she replied, standing up.

"I don't blame you for trying to cover it up. Just like you tried to keep many other things covered up. Like your little love emails..."

"Again the accusation..."

"Is truth." Sherlock replied. "You were blackmailed by Eduardo Lucas. So you got unintentionally gave him very dangerous material...and yes you didn't know at the time how important that it was and it's certainly not your fault. Something happened at Lucas' house. Interfered with you exchanging the..."

"Yes Miss Holmes. I have been terribly foolish. I took the USB drive to Lucas when I was meant to be out to the theatre. Only his girlfriend turned up and he quickly hid the drive..."

"Under the loose floorboard." Sherlock finished. "After speaking to me, you quickly went back to the crime scene and posed as a police woman. Was not difficult, you had your hair in a bun, the polished black boots and you probably had a stab vest under your coat."

"What do I do?" she asked. "All I tried to do was stop my husband's image being ruined and mine..."

"I understand. Put it in the safe again. I will suggest to him later tonight that he lets me examine it, where I will find it."

"But how will..."

"Perhaps someone was playing a practical joke on him?" she replied. "Now for this girlfriend..."

Mycroft met Sherlock in his office. "I see the police have arrested Lucas' woman for the murder. So, mental health issues? Easily triggered. You do look pale. Perhaps you should be more careful and you wouldn't get ill?"

"I want to look at the safe." she stated, simply.

Mycroft stood up. "I would have to see about this." he replied before the door opened suddenly. In stepped a woman with long tied up blonde hair, clad in a light blue evening dress. "Sorry. Bad time." she uttered.

"Not all. My sister was just leaving. Sherlockina this is Gloria Norton. Agent Norton this is my sister."

"Charmed." she said, extending her left hand to be shaken. "Lovely scarf."

"Charming engagement ring."

She looked at Sherlock condescendingly. "Hope your illness isn't catching, you look ill."

"I will see what I can do, Sherlock. Try and not make yourself worse."

"Any luck with Mycroft?" John asked.

She remained silent and flopped on the sofa, shivering; and that was with her coat on. John looked at her, ready to speak but the phone rang. He picked it up. "Mr Hope..."

With John, by her side and protesting about how ill she was, she made her way into Trelawney Hope's home. "Five minutes but I don't see how it will help." he sneered.

"I am sure Miss Holmes is just looking for anything that can be found out about the person who stole what you had in the safe sweetheart."

She was taken to the safe. "Has it been opened?" she inquired, folding her arms to heat herself up.

"Not since they were dusted for finger prints." was the reply.

He opened it, his eyes falling on the single USB stick that was inside. "Impossible."

"I think someone has played a practical joke on you." Sherlock said. "Well I see you no longer require my services and I shall therefore leave."

The next morning saw Mycroft visiting Sherlockina who was on the chair and in her pyjamas still shivering after having been very sick. "Curious isn't it?"

"What is?" Sherlock asked.

"How it just turned up...especially after Hilda Hope had been at your flat twice. Question is, why would she have it and then give it back without selling?"

"We all have our diplomatic secrets, Mycroft. Goodbye."

Mycroft nodded and left and Sherlock went in to a coughing fit. That was when John came into the living room and put a blanket around her. "You're ill and you need to rest."

"I am fine."

"I am phoning the doctor!"

"I don't need a doctor for a simple virus."

"Sherlock you're temperature is high after paracetamol! You're ill."

"I haven't had a doctor for such trivial viruses before and I shan't now."

"Didn't your mother or father ever take you to the doctor?"

"Being ill wasn't that big a deal."

"Well it is now. So choose I either phone the doctor or I will treat you myself. That means having to listen to what I say."

She sighed. "Fine, I want my doctor!"

"What's their number?"

She read it out and John looked up. "That's my number."

"Well my best friend's a doctor. Might as well have a doctor you trust."

John smiled and hugged her, much to her surprise. "Harry used to be that nice until she turned twelve."

Sherlock just smiled.

**14****th**** March 2014 – The Second Stain  
**

I know this is me just putting this up and I'm quite annoyed I haven't done it yet and I'm sure Mycroft will probably put it down. It's been a long time since I have blogged but I did a lot of cases with her and I have to put this one up. Ella says it'll help.

I was out drinking with the lads back sometime in August 2012 and when I came back in I checked on Sherlock who was sleeping. Now I don't know how many times I'd come home and she'd be covered in blood due to injuries from experiments. We'd always get in to arguments about how much she didn't need to be helped. She always was so stubborn that way. She always just wanted to be independent. She never ever wanted help from a man either. Anyway, due to her history of injuring herself I checked on her – although I was so drunk she could have been a cat on the ceiling for all I know – and she was sleeping. I remember how peaceful she looked while she slept. It was a completely different look than usual. Usually she was concentrating on something in her mind palace or what piece she was playing on her violin but no then.

Naturally when I woke up the following morning I had the worst hangover ever. It didn't help that I was woken up by the doorbell. So I got up, ready to answer it but Sherlock did. Sherlockina Holmes?! Yes she did! She was ill that day but I'll come to that. So while she answered the door I went in to the living room, ready to enter the kitchen when all of a sudden a glass of water, placed next to paracetamol caught my eye along with a note. I walked over to it because I really needed those pills. I read the note and it was from Sherlock. I won't forget what it said because she was in quite a humorous mood. **""Get well soon, John! I need you at your optimum fitness. All the best your madwoman for a flatmate."**

I won't forget the smile I had when I read it. She could be funny when she wanted to be. Before I could shout downstairs with a witty comeback, she called up to me that she was leaving and before I knew it we were BOTH in one of those blasted black cars that I don't see anymore.

Eventually we were in some sort of conference room where I met Mycroft again and the foreign secretary! Not to mention the Prime Minister, himself. I was very worried Sherlock would cause a row, but she didn't and yet she did tell them straight. They wanted her to take on an investigation without much knowledge and she told them straight that she wasn't doing it in case it endangered me. I was so touched then. So very, touched.

Basically the foreign secretary had lost a USB drive and on that USB drive was important stuff that might ruin the whole world basically. So Sherlock spoke of a few known spies she knew that had been threatening her. And alas she'd never told me about it because it was apparently not on her big deal list. Mycroft looked into the spies as we went home. I went to get some shopping and Sherlock stayed in the flat. I don't remember ever seeing her so down as she was that day. Maybe it was because I brought up Hyde Park. I still don't know what happened then. Just as I was getting somewhere with her, she had to do what she did. So while I was out I found a newspaper, Eduardo Lucas who had been one of her spies on the list she gave Mycroft had turned up dead not far from our foreign secretary's home but before Sherlock and I could get on the case, the wife of the foreign secretary came to speak to Sherlock.

She inquired about the importance of the USB drive and told Sherlock not to speak to her husband about it. By that time Sherlock was also becoming quite ill. Eventually we went to the crime scene to see Lestrade, who was shouting at one of his officers who was in charge of keeping the crime scene protected until forensics had seen to it. According to photographs and Sherlock, and Lestrade the crime scene had been contaminated or rather a rug had been moved. As Sherlock examined it, she was told there was a woman named Ruby who had attended the crime scene dressed as a police officer. She did her normal thing of saying "interesting" before continuing to look and she found a loose floorboard under the carpet. She nodded and smiled. It was that smug smile of hers. Quietly she took aside Lestrade's officer and spoke to him, before leaving with me.

I went to visit Harry who had phoned me to come see her about something and when I came back Sherlock was much worse but she insisted on seeing Mycroft. She left without me to see him and came back later, only to get a phone call from the foreign secretary. Mycroft had given him my number I think. Great! Just great!

So we went to his house and Sherlock asked to see the safe. I think she needed to check it for closure; that the safe had not been tampered with. When he opened it the USB was in the safe. Sherlock said it must have been a practical joke. I didn't care Sherlock and I got paid money and we went home.

I didn't know until I spoke to Lestrade that Lucas' girlfriend had been arrested for the murder. So that was all good. I had one last night drink with the lads but I didn't drink too much. I wanted to be sober. When I got back home, Mycroft was just leaving the living room and Sherlock was visibly sick. He just left her! Why?!

The whole time she'd been not well she mentioned that being ill wasn't a big deal. Now I realise when I think about it. She'd been neglected emotionally as a child. But at the time I didn't know that, and yet when I looked at her. I saw vulnerable young women. Not because of her gender which she would hate me for saying but because she was still naïve and she was lonely and too stubborn. It was time to start putting my foot down so I told her. Either you let me phone you a doctor or I'll treat you myself! She gave the number of her doctor and it was mine. I had never been so touched and I hugged her. It felt like I was hugging Harry. Sherlock was the little sister I never had with Harry. She was sweet in her own way and I can't believe she's gone now. I just can't! She was a good person and I don't care what anyone says! And she certainly wasn't a freak!


	22. Meeting One's Match Part 1

Agata Adler looked around the limousine she was in. "I am so bored." she stated. Her brother was on the phone, making an important business call. "I said I'm bored! When are we getting there?"

But her brother was still unaware of her statements either that he was choosing to ignore it. "Well, I never had much interest in that career path!" he replied. "What? That perfume is not selling…What's it even called again…Oh yeah Midnight Murder…Who calls a perfume that? In fact who would buy a perfume like that?..."

Agata climbed over the seat and waved a magazine in front of her brother's face. "Excuse me a moment right now, my sister is a bit restless."

He took the phone away from his ear and put it on mute. "Agata, sit down and put your seatbelt back on. The roads in London are terrible!"

"This person uses it."

"Uses what?"

"That perfume!"

He took the magazine from her hand and looked at it. "But then again she has cold looking eyes."

Agata saw her brother smile, a smile that was very odd. "They are not cold. They are sad. Now sit down and put your seatbelt back on."

"I want to meet her! She's meant to be a really famous detective…"

"Look, Agata I haven't got time to take you around London, as I try and hunt down…"

"221 B Baker Street!"

"Please tell me you're not stalking this person?!" he replied.

"Please! I have a report to do on a role model and I'd love to pick you but you've broke up with yet another woman. This time you came so close."

"It's not my fault they only want me because I'm a billionaire!"

"Although I was glad Gloria left! I hated her. What a bitch!"

"Language, Agata!" scolded her brother. He picked up the phone again.

"Sorry about that…Just leave the perfume in the warehouse just now…Yes I'll decide later...OK…I can't I promised Agata that I would take her to The Hobbit Premiere…I can't let her go herself!...She's twelve…"

"Yes please let me go myself!" Agata squealed.

"Look can I phone you back?"

He ended the call and looked at his little sister. "Seatbelt!"

"You're boring! Now can we go see her!?"

"See whom?"

"Sherlock Holmes."

"Who is he?"

"More like she! And she's the greatest detective ever!"

"Is she?" he asked, picking up his newspaper.

"And she's really pretty!"

"Well she's not so bad looking. Although I think I would cut myself caressing that face. Look at her cheekbones."

"Can we visit her so I can ask about her job?"

"Maybe. But I did say I'd let you come to the party I was attending to see Richard Armitage."

"You didn't say that!" she replied, seriously.

"Well I did now."

"I'm hungry! I want pancakes."

"They don't do Ihops here."

She looked out of the window. "Surely they must have pancakes at Wal-Mart or…"

"They don't have that either."

"You must have bought over some companies here, though?" she asked. "How long until we get there anyway?! I am so bored and I want to tweet my friends."

"They'll be asleep. No logical sense in it. Why don't you go shopping with Patrice. I'll give you one of my credit cards and you can buy whatever and as much as you want."

"Oh yes, thank you!" she replied.

The car stopped outside a large mansion. "Very rare to find one of such architecture." he commented but it has its own tennis court and swimming pool."

They made their way inside and Agata looked about the entrance and shook her head. "Nope. Nope. Absolutely not!"

"What's the matter my dearest sister? I've been living here the past few months why can't you?"

"It needs a woman's touch. This place is hardly furnished."

She turned to the driver and rubbed her hands together. "I am going to need a decorator and I will also need a specialist in furnishing such a house. Not to mention this place could do with more flowers."

He smiled and walked upstairs as his sister began organising all her wants. When he sat down at the desk he pulled open his drawer and pulled out a newspaper. "Hello again." he said to the photo on the front page. "It's getting harder and harder to pretend I don't know of your existence. Perhaps one day you will meet my sister."

He logged on to the computer and then searched for Sherlock Holmes in google. He found the blog of a Dr John Watson and smiled. "Still resenting the male population I see…Oh you poor thing…You poor stupid woman."

He laughed and went downstairs to find Agata on the phone. "This is an absolute disgrace. I don't care if Christmas is in four weeks…My brother will pay whatever price is needed. My brother is worth a billion times that!...I will not stand for that nonsense either you take five million pounds for the job or I'll find someone who'll do it for two…yeah that's right I know your rival would do it for a quarter of that…Uhhuh!...Fine I'll see you here in three days…Caio."

"Is my little sister being a good business woman?"

"Being? I'm always a good business woman and good isn't the word for it. Magnificent is a better term!...Now where is the card you promised you'd give me if I went shopping with Patrice?"

She smiled and put her hands behind her back and she looked at him with wide open eyes. He couldn't help but laugh and shake his head. "In the drawer in the kitchen, in an envelope with your name on it."

She ran up and hugged him. "I love you."

"Love you too, sis. I have to go and see some people though. I'll be back soon and we'll go watch the Hobbit and get you autographs."

She nodded.

"Can we go to Whocon as well."

"That's months away."

"Still."

"OK."

"And Harry Potter festival?"

"Yes."

"And I want to go to Florida too!"

"Yes."

"Can I have a million pounds?"

"Yes."

"Can I have all your money?"

"Yes."

"Are you just going to say yes to everything?"

"I mean it. Whatever you want you can have."

She just smiled and went to look for the card and Patrice.

* * *

"I can't believe we're doing this!" John exclaimed.

"Quiet." Sherlock replied. They were both in period clothing, and wearing masks around their eyes. "If I'm correct then the exchange of the address will be here tonight."

"What if you're not correct?"

"Then you can you get blitzed out of your skull." she hissed. An hour passed and nothing at all seemed to go on.

"Dance with one of the women John and look normal."

John sighed and looked about before wandering off. Sherlock sighed and constantly kept her eyes analysing everything on the scene. She was bored. She began to pour herself a drink of punch when a voice interrupted her thoughts and she spilled the punch on the table. "Oh dear, I did not mean to startle you." he apologised.

"Indeed you did not. I was merely not paying attention to that around me."

He smiled and looked at her eyes. "You are…"

"Miss Watson. Harry Watson. John Watson, my brother is over there."

"Ah. Indeed a pleasure to meet you, Miss Watson. Might I say you have the most charming eyes! However they look sad. So very sad."

"They are not sad."

"My mistake then. Midnight Murder that perfume is."

"Right." she nodded before getting ready to walk away.

"By the way." he said, whispering in her ear. "The man you're looking for is in the corner. You're welcome, Miss Holmes."

When she got the ability to move around her was gone. She swallowed.

* * *

"He was arrested so what's the problem?" John asked, Sherlock who was in her own world when she got back.

"No problem, none at all."

"Is this about your perfume being taken off market shelves? All you need is a new brand and you'll be fine."

"Midnight Murder."

"Yes. It's a rubbish name…"

"No…how could he have known that?"

"How could who have known what?"

"Nothing." she replied quickly. "Excuse me, I need sleep."


	23. Meeting One's Match Part 2

John was pouring wine in to glasses when he heard a knock at the door. "Sherlock can you get that?!" he asked, shouting upstairs. "Please!"

He heard her running downstairs and voices at the door. "Hopefully that will be Lestrade." John spoke. It was his first Christmas in Sherlock's company and perhaps Lestrade could help him get through it. It was why he invited him around. He also invited Mason Hooper who worked at Saint Barts' as their pathologist. He had helped Sherlock out many times and since both Lestrade and Mason had nowhere to go for Christmas they got invited.

When Sherlock answered the door it was not Lestrade or Mason. It was man in suit and a hat. He looked like a chauffeur. "I was told to deliver this to you."

He handed her a package, and a card. "Thank you." she replied before closing the door and for the first time ever she didn't understand. She made her way upstairs. "I have a present." she spoke, going by the weight I'd say a box with…"

"Hey no deducing the presents or opening them until Mason and Greg gets here."

"I thought it was Lestrade that was coming." she whined. "Who is Greg?"

"That is Lestrade."

"Oh."

John shook his head and sat down before reading the newspaper. Sherlock put the present and card on the coffee table and walked to the window. "Remember, and be polite. Harry might show up."

"Oh. Interesting." Sherlock replied, sarcastically. "I do look forward to having her be resentful."

"Sherlock…"

"Oh no don't let me come between brother and sister. She might need you to drag her home. Big mistake getting the expensive wine. You should have put water in it."

"Sherlock that's enough! I will not have you stand there and insult my sister! She may be many things but she is my family! Families defend one another! It might be alright for us to criticise our families but it's not alright for outsiders."

Sherlock sat down. "Forgive me for expressing my honest opinion."

"What's the matter with you anyway? You're all on edge!"

She shrugged.

"Oh and for the record she's been sober for ages now."

"Good for her. Maybe now she's so perfect you won't compare us."

"I don't compare you."

"Yes you do!"

"I don't!" John replied.

Sherlock stood up again and began pacing. "Sherlock what's your problem?"

"I…Nothing it doesn't matter."

"No tell me." John replied, turning his head to look at her.

"Someone else might pop round, tonight."

"Oh good you invited someone that's good! Who?"

"I would not have invited them at all and in fact I did not they just assumed it would be fine."

"Who?"

"You see…I…Basically…"

The doorbell rang. "I'll get that and we'll finish talking when I get back."

Sherlock sat down on her sofa and sighed. "God. Please not him."

When John answered the door it was someone he wasn't expecting. "Hello…"

"Excuse me, you must be Dr Watson. Mycroft has told me a lot about you." the man stated clearly before walking passed him and upstairs.

"I hope Mycroft told you where to go." she stated as soon as he walked in to the room.

"Sherlockina, my darling look how you've grown. You still look so young."

John looked at the man and frowned thoughtfully.

"Is that why you're here because Mycroft was having none of your apologies."

"This is not a place I imagined my daughter living in."

John's eyes almost burst from their sockets, through shock.

"Why?" she asked.

"Why don't we look at some classier flats or even a house?"

"What do you want?"

"To see my daughter for Christmas."

"Oh I get it! Mother's out of the way so you think it's safe to come and see us again?!"

"How I've missed you." he said, before extending his arms. "A hug?"

Sherlock began laughing. Her scary laugh before sitting on the sofa. "Oh dear God!"

"You're Sherlock's father?" John asked.

"Yes I am. Sadly I've not see my daughter in a long time. Complications through family matters. "What is it she does for a living, Dr Watson? I only briefly managed to speak to Mycroft. I believe his words were. Be careful if you go to hurt Sherlockina, Dr Watson will not be happy. Family misunderstanding and all that."

"Right. She's a detective."

Sherlock's father's face fell and John looked at him. "A detective?" he asked again, bitterly before turning to her. "With her degrees I thought, a professor at Oxford would be more fitting."

John could swear he saw Sherlock's fist clench as she tried to stop her hands shaking. There was a look in eye that she'd never had before. It was murderous, angry and pain filled."

"She makes a lot of money."

"I wasn't asking for your opinion, Doctor Watson."

"Funny enough neither of us were asking for yours!" Sherlock snapped.

The door opened and Lestrade came in with Mason. "We thought we'd let ourselves in."

"Father this is D.I Greg Lestrade and this is Mason Hooper. My friends! Greg lets me in on his cases sometimes."

"Why a detective?" her father asked her. "You had a whole life ahead of you."

"You don't get to ask those questions." Sherlock replied. "Now kindly leave before I kill you and I don't care if Greg arrests me for it. You have no business showing up here. Have no concerns for Mycroft or me. We've coped fine for years, and years and years! Not that we missed you either!"

"Sherlock…" John began.

"No matter how many Holmes die we'll still never want you! How dare you come in here and insult what I do. You have no right whatsoever! Now go before you insult my friends!"

"I expected resentment from Mycroft but never you. You were always the bubbly child and so easy to forgive."

"Well now my good opinion once lost is lost forever. I have no good opinion of you whatsoever. Leave!"

He left and Sherlock took a deep breath. "Merry Christmas, everyone." she said, forcing a smile. "If you'll excuse me I will go upstairs and get all your presents and then we'll have our dinner from Mrs Hudson and we'll open your presents. Greg, sorry about your wife and the PE teacher."

"How did she know my first name was Greg?" Lestrade asked when Sherlock left to go upstairs.

"I told her." John replied. "She's clueless about some things. It's funny. Sherlock and her father are so different."

"She told me he was dead." Lestrade replied.

"Will she be alright?" Mason asked.

"I honestly don't know anymore." John replied.


	24. Meeting One's Match Part 3

Sherlock made her way downstairs and handed the presents out. "I was carefully advised by John when buying the presents." she informed them. After dinner, Sherlock was the only one who still hadn't opened the presents she'd gotten from everyone else but before John could bring it up to her she stood up and told them she was going for a walk. So she left the house, alone and with her coat and scarf on.

Her phone went off and she checked it while she continued to walk. "**I like the coat and scarf. Perhaps you should have put a hat on though. The deerstalker is nice. If you don't have it let me know. I'll send you another one! xx." **

She frowned. She didn't know that number. She looked around but no one was there. **"I'm sorry I think you have the wrong number." **

She continued walking until it went off again. **"You look sad. I wish you wouldn't be. Anything I can do to help? And no I've definitely got the right number. xx"**

She didn't text back but walked home. They were all laughing and having drinks when she got back. She decided to go upstairs and sleep. It was midnight when she woke up and went downstairs. She picked up the present she'd gotten at the door and opened it to find a bottle of Midnight Murder perfume.

Picking up the card she was somewhat bewildered. She read it. **"Miss Holmes please have a very good Christmas. Enjoy your perfume bottle. There is plenty more where that came from. Oh and might I just say your eyes are still sad." **

She bit her lip as she thought.

"_Might I say you have the most charming eyes! However they look sad. So very sad."_

"The man from the period clothing party." she uttered. She had not seen his face. The mask made sure of that but she could see his eyes and something about those eyes frightened her a little. She didn't know why. Perhaps it was because they were so kind looking. She replayed his voice in her head. American accent. It seemed quite New Jersey like.

She put the card up on the mantelpiece and found chocolates in the bag with the perfume box. She sat down and opened the box.

John made his way inside and he looked at her with concern. "I heard you get up. Are you alright?"

She looked up and forced a smile. She nodded. "Sorry about my father John. I was hoping you'd never have the misfortune of having to see him."

"When was the last time you saw him?" John asked before sitting next to her.

"I don't know. I deleted it."

She stood up and walked to the window. She saw John eye the chocolate. "You can have some, John."

"Thank you. Who got you the chocolates?"

"I honestly don't know." she said, before breaking into a grin. "But I'll find out!"

**Wednesday the 13th February 2013**

"John! John! John!" yelled Sherlock, seeming as though she was in some form of desperate panic. John woke up right away and ran downstairs, getting ready to deal with thugs trying to kill her. No one was there except her and Sherlock was wearing an expression on her face that would normally be associated with a small child who'd just lost her favourite toy. In her hands she held her black jeans that she normally wore. "They are ripped!"

"How the hell?"

"I had a little fall. That's not important! What will I do? They were my only pair I had left. They dye ran out of the other one! Mycroft wants to see me, as well."

"Emm...I don't know wear something else." John suggested. "I thought someone was attacking you with the way you were yelling!"

"Well I'm sorry and for one I would never shout on you like that if someone was trying to attack me."

"Sherlock if I'm around and someone's attacking you, you bloody well better shout on me."

"Why?"

John sighed and rolled his eyes. "Because I'll come down here and deal with them and not to mention I'll give you a slap to try and knock some common sense into you."

Sherlock smiled. "It didn't work last time someone did it." she replied.

"Who did it last time?" John asked and Sherlock's face fell. "Mycroft?"

"I better go upstairs, I have to find something to wear then."

"I'm going for a job interview...will you be alright with Mycroft on your own?"

Sherlock looked at him. "Job? How dull! Goodness me John..."

"I have bills to pay, Sherlock. Christmas set me back. I can't always rely on you for money. I know you are working non-stop but that's you that's working for it and I know..."

"Yeah...I would give you every penny. Money doesn't interest me but you won't do that John because you're too chivalrous. That's an issue."

"Just like you hating men is an issue for you!"

"I don't hate men! I despise them, John! They are not to be trusted!"

"You trust me. You trust Lestrade. Mason. Three men, there you go!"

"Maybe because you're different!"

"Or maybe because we don't pose a threat. One we've never tried to hurt you and two we'll never compete with your intelligence. What about your father? Is he as intelligent as you, and that's why you hate him? He poses as a threat."

Sherlock laughed. "John I love your humour! I really do!"

She ran upstairs to get ready and John sighed, before picking up the newspaper.

Mycroft sat in a conference room, waiting on Sherlock with Gareth Hughes - his colleague - and when she finally came in through the door, his eyes widened in shock. "Don't tell me you had nothing to wear."

Sherlock was wearing a skirt, high heels and a white blouse. "My jeans had to have their last rights but no matter. I've ordered more!"

"This is my colleague, Gareth Hughes." Mycroft introduced. Sherlock recognised him from when he came into another conference a few months back, after a meeting she'd had with the foreign secretary and the prime minister.

Sherlock nodded and a file was handed to her. It was labelled, Gloria Norton. "This is the blonde woman who went in to your office a couple of months ago."

"Yes. She was one of our agents before she stole data on a laptop and took it with her."

"Oh dear. How very awful." Sherlock feigned concern.

"Can you help us, Miss Holmes?" Gareth asked.

"I don't actually understand what you want me to do." she replied.

"Have a seat, Sherlockina." Mycroft gestured towards one.

"No thank you." Sherlock replied.

"Please!" Mycroft replied, staring at her seriously.

Sherlockina rolled her eyes and sat down. "We need you to find the laptop and bring it to us."

"I see." Sherlock replied, nodding. "So this Norton woman has left the service, taking a laptop with her that has some delicate material on it."

"Yes."

"Why not send someone in after her?"

"It's not that easy." Mycroft replied. "There are plenty of people wanting to buy this laptop and she's got it in a computerised safe."

"Oh."

"A special computerised safe." Gareth explained.

"You make this sound cheesy or like some sort of children's story. So the computerised safe..."

"Has different levels of unlocking. Puzzles. It's our own technology." Gareth interrupted.

"If it's your own then why is there a problem? You know how it works..."

"When we say our own, we mean we had a very wealthy intelligent man make it up. An absolute genius in code breaking and creating."

"Oh lovely. I am impressed." she said sarcastically. "Why not just get him in to help."

"We can't find him." Gareth replied.

She stood up. "Do you know where she's staying at least?"

"Right here in London." Mycroft replied.

"Going to need more specific than that, brother."

"Beauval Road." Mycroft replied.

* * *

Sherlock quietly made her way to Gloria Norton's door. She had her hair tied up and concealed with a blonde wig, and despite highly doubting Norton would remember the colour of eyes of Sherlock Holmes, she had brown contact lenses in.

When the door opened it was answered by a burley man. Obviously one of Norton's bodyguards. "Hey there. I'm working with your electricity supplier. I just came to do a survey with the owner."

"Come in and wait right here." he ordered.

"_Who just lets someone in like that. Was half expecting to be asked who I worked for."_

"Ah, I was wondering when they would send some bastard, cold calling me. I should never have switched to Hydro Electric!" Sherlock heard from upstairs. Sherlock's eyes darted to the table, where there were bills and she smiled.

"_Oh she isn't trusting anyone is she?" _

"Sorry to keep you waiting."

"Not at all. I'm from Eon."

Norton smiled. "Ah. Please come upstairs, my study is up there. I'm actually thinking of changing my deal."

"Oh of course I would be happy to help you with that." Sherlock replied before walking with her upstairs.

When in her study, Norton told her bodyguard to leave. "So...Miss..."

"Watson." Sherlock replied. "Miss Watson but you can call me Sheryl."

"I'm not happy with the price of my bills."

"First question on the survey." Sherlock replied before bring out a notepad and pen. "What do you think of the prices...not happy."

A mobile phone on the desk suddenly rang and Norton picked it up. Her face fell. "What are you doing outside?...I'm coming down but I'm not promising you'll make it out alive."

She ended the call. "Just my ex fiance...excuse me."

When Norton was gone, Sherlock stood up and went looking for the safe. It had to be in the Study. She needed her bodyguard to protect it at night while she was sleeping and she couldn't see him standing in her room all night.

She couldn't help but notice scrapes on the wall where a painting was. She took it down and found a large computer. It was touch screen and she assumed in unlocked the safe.

Time passed as she began decoding the password for the safe. "_It must change every time."_ she deduced. Finally she finished the last one and it opened. Inside was the laptop in a carry case. She grabbed it and then heard a gun cock. She realised she'd lost herself 'in the game'. She turned around to see the burly man from the door. "Now why don't you put that down? I can't believe Adler got you to do that."

"I beg your pardon?" she asked.

"Hand it over."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

She walked over to him with it and then quickly as she walked, she grabbed the lamp on her desk with her free hand and hit him over the head. She grabbed his gun and hit him over the head to fully knock him out before running downstairs, before bumping right into someone. "I'm impressed. Remind me to lock something with you next time."

The voice was so familiar and she didn't have to wrack her brains to realise who it was. "Hello Miss Holmes. That wig doesn't fool me. I prefer you with brown hair and blue eyes."

She could not look up. She remembered how frightening his eyes were. How caring! How full of admiration. His hand moved to carotid artery. "Forgive me, Miss Holmes."

She blacked out. With only one thing running through her brain at that moment. Adler.

* * *

A/N Big thanks to JaneEyre0 and PushToShove


	25. Meeting One's Match Part 4

A/N Big thanks to JaneEre0, PushToShove (sorry for trolling you love) and a big thanks to Madam Boast Alot (I would love to see your version of femlock when you do it. Let me know when you've got your chapter up! :D) and to all those who put this story on their alert. It was very much appreciated!

* * *

Sherlock woke to someone's hand on her wrist, seemingly taking her pulse. "Sherlock you're alright. Thank God!"a voice exclaimed. She saw nothing but fog. "Sherlock are you alright?"

"I'm tired, John. Can't you get the doorbell?"

"Sherlock you're not at Baker Street, you fool!" John replied back with a laugh. Finally the fog cleared away and she looked around her and suddenly realised where she was.

"How on earth did you know I was here?"

"I got a text from you. Help me! and then the address.. Naturally I came running. Got the job by the way."

"Fascinating." she replied before removing her mobile from her pocket and dialling a number. "Mycroft I have issues...I've just woke up and Norton and her bodyguard have done a runner by the looks of it...With the laptop. I failed...By the way is the name Adler familiar to you?...Oh it came up..."

John drew Sherlock a funny look as she frowned. Sherlock looked in the mirror and realised that her blonde wig was off and her contacts were gone. "Who is Adler?" John asked when Sherlock got off of the phone to Mycroft.

"The man." she replied, somewhat in her own world. John was confused. "Umm..."

"Sherlock, how did you fall asleep on the sofa?" John asked. "Did her bodyguard hurt you?"

"No. He didn't either. How did you know...nevermind you must have passed them."

"What?" John asked confused. "Sherlock..."

She was gone before John could stop her. The only way he knew he'd keep her safe was to run after her. He rolled his eyes, sighed and left as well. "Taxi!" Sherlock shouted.

* * *

"Your brother asked me to apologise on his behalf. He was called in to a meeting with the prime minister." Gareth spoke.

"Oh how is he? I haven't not seen him in months." Sherlock smiled.

"A sir Demerry also asked me to pass on his regards."

"How lovely. Anyone else?" Sherlock asked. John elbowed her gently.

"Irenaeus Adler. Aged 32. Mathematical and Computer genius! Wealthy business man. Has businesses over the world. Has several mansions and holidays homes through the globe as well. His particular favourites are Switzerland, New Jersey, London, Scotland, France, Italy and Canada. He has an expensive loft apartment in Tokyo, however. He enjoys swimming, horse riding, skiing, golf and tennis."

"Trivia." Sherlock spat.

"No living family members whatsoever. Mother was Polish, and father was American. They died in a car crash."

"Where is he now?" she asked.

"Most likely at his London home. Again though high security and we think this time you won't get in. Adler is clever, Miss Holmes. Perhaps too clever for even you!"

"We'll soon see." she replied, before standing up. "Come along, John."

"Mr Adler is a very dangerous man!"

"I don't doubt that for one second and nor do I doubt he's of high intelligence either." Sherlock spoke. John's eyes widened and he looked around to Sherlock. "John, are you coming or are you going to let your eyes remain that way for the rest of the day?"

"Even if you do find his London home, then how on earth are you going to get into it? He's not exactly going to let you in." Gareth continued.

"Then I'll have to let myself in, sir! Good morning!"

* * *

Sherlock found Adler's home. It was fenced off, with barbed wire. Lucky enough she was going to just get let in. She was in disguise as a uniformed officer, with glasses on and a hat to hide her hair. She also added a scar on her cheek to further make herself different. "Hello, Sergeant Sally Donovan." she spoke into the intercom at the fence.

Irenaeus was sitting at his desk in his study when Patrice came to the door. "A Sergeant Sally Donovan is here to see you. She's in the kitchen."

He stood up and walked downstairs. "I'm sorry Mr Adler but I need to ask you a few questions. I was speaking to two eyewitnesses who place you at a crime which took place several hours ago. Patrice walked off and left him.

"Really?" Irenaeus asked before leaning against the kitchen worktop. "Do you know it's Valentines Day tomorrow Sergeant?"

"What's that?"

"A day to celebrate an old Priest in Italy named Saint Valentine. He used to marry men and women off in secret because marriage was banned."

"Why?"

"Because the country's leader at the time...well he thought it would be quite efficient to adding more people to the army."

"Well bad decisions are always made when men are in charge."

"You approve of marriage?"

"Not myself but it's quite a benefit for me in a way. A minority of the murders I've dealt with have been domestic problems."

Irenaeus laughed. "Oh dear, Miss Holmes you are very humorous. And you're eyes still look very sad. Please, have some water."

"I'm sorry...Miss Holmes?"

"You know the big problem with a disguise, Miss Holmes?"

"What's that Mr Adler?" Sherlock replied.

"Well no matter how hard you try, it's always a self portrait."

"You think I'm Sergeant Sally Donovan?"

"Well certainly not a sergeant, because you wouldn't be wearing uniform. John was right there are some things you're spectacularly ignorant about."

Sherlock folded her arms.

"So you think I'm officer Donovan."

"No. I think you wear uniform every day."

"Uniform?"

"Yes, the uniform that stops people from seeing you as human being."

"Well if you were me would you want people to see **you **as a human being?"

"Personally I don't care about what people think and two for a genius Miss Holmes you really are quite stupid!"

She sat herself up on the worktop. "So where is the laptop, then?"

"There is no point, even if you could get to the many steps of getting to the puzzles you have to know my four key password and that you'll never guess."

"Tell me then why is the contents of the laptop so important? What's on it?"

"Has your brother not told you, yet? Oh wait you and him are not on such good terms. Not since he abandoned you to such a depressed mother when your father left. All those working hours that left you on your own."

Sherlock swallowed and stared at him with widened eyes. "How could you...possibly..."

"The tables have turned. I'll get you that glass of water now."

"How?" she repeated.

"You know Miss Holmes, you and I should have dinner tomorrow."

"What would your sister, say about that?" Sherlock asked and Irenaeus looked up at her. He frowned and swallowed.

"The tables have turned again." she replied before taking her glass of water off of Irenaeus. "Cutlery in the drawer. Edwardian floral pattern. Not the typical cutlery chosen by a bachelor. You could have had from when you were with Gloria Norton but no no no no no, you would probably have thrown all of that out if you did have stuff from her. You were the one who broke up with her. I can tell. So you left her, you got rid of her stuff. Both your parents are dead so not them. You wouldn't be the type to have such...emasculating cutlery in your drawer and there is the flowers on the table at the stairs...picked recently...Your hands are quite strong but the hands who picked the flowers were more delicate. Then there's the finger print marks on the steel fridge. Small enough to belong to a child within the region of ten to thirteen and since both your parents are dead you would naturally be the one to look after your little sister."

Irenaeus forced a smile. "Well...how do you know it isn't my daughter."

"Age. Impossible." she replied. Her phone rang.

"That'll be John making sure you're alright." Irenaeus commented. "Does he know what happened at Hyde Park yet?"

"Do shut up!" Sherlock snapped.

"Oh touchy subject, Hyde Park isn't it?"

"I mean it be quiet!"

"No. No I won't be quiet. You've been playing a game since you walked into my house and now it's my turn. You were shot at twice in Hyde Park. The first shot hit the horse you were riding while undercover and then the other one hit you. I read the report online. No name was given thanks to your brother but I knew it had to be you."

Sherlock was fuming. "Are you needing another bottle of Midnight Murder by the way? You never got back to me about the deerstalker and did you enjoy your chocolates?"

"They were very nice, and I shared them with John." she replied.

Irenaeus nodded. Suddenly him and Sherlock were having what seemed to be staring competition. "So Miss Holmes, dinner?" he asked still staring at her.

"Depends if I don't kill you first."

"But that wouldn't be quite as entertaining."

"Hmm...Well this has been interesting."

"I'm complimented."

"I was being sarcastic."

"Oh I'm hurt."

"Why do you want the laptop?" Sherlock asked. His face fell. "For one you don't need to sell it. You're a billionaire. Unless this is a petty attempt at pissing off Gloria."

"Everything pisses her off."

Suddenly they both heard gunfire and the kitchen door fall down. Obviously its hinges had been shut off. They both stood however, staring unphased as four men with guns made their way into the kitchen. "The laptop, Mr Adler." spoke what appeared to be the leader of the group.

"Did Gloria send them?" Sherlock asked before picking up a magazine.

"Most likely." he replied.

"The laptop, Mr Adler." the leader of the quartet repeated.

"I don't know about you, Mr Adler but I don't think they said please."

"No they didn't, did they? Glad to see you have knowledge of manners, Miss Holmes. Does that mean you practice them?"

"Only when I want something." she replied.

He chuckled and then remembered that people with guns were in the house. "Well..."

"To the safe then, Mr Adler."

"Ladies first." Irenaeus said to Sherlock.


	26. Meeting One's Match Part 5

Sherlock couldn't help but feel the gun being pressed into the back of her head. She looked around her. She half expected Adler to show them the safe once they were lead in to his study which Sherlock couldn't help but admire. It was a large library of books with a desk in the middle and a chair sitting at it, with other chairs scattered over the room. There were stairs leading up to another floor and it wouldn't surprise Sherlock if he had a secret passageway somewhere.

He sat down at his desk, and put his feet up. One question, bugging in Sherlock's mind was where Adler's sister was. His voice suddenly brought her back to reality again. "I see no reason why, Gloria wants this so badly. I'm willing to pay more than the British Government. All she has to do is name her price. Then again she was never very decided."

"Miss Holmes will open the safe." one of them spoke. She heard the gun cock and she looked at Irenaeus. His eyes looked different from usual. They looked sad, confused and apologetic. He sighed and then smiled before sitting down. "Good luck with that one. She won't take orders from me. Once Miss Holmes has a decision in her mind, there is no going back. She's incorrigible. But she's brainy and they do say brainy is the new sexy. Although it's rather a shame that's she so very stupid."

"If you're trying to insult me Mr Adler it's not going to work."

"Oh I was complimenting you and insulting you." he replied, simply. Sherlock nodded in realisation. There was sirens outside suddenly and Sherlock frowned. She'd been confused so many times that day it was unbelievable. There was no way of possibly knowing everything as she usually did. For once in her life she was left, clueless and it made her feel incredibly vulnerable.

"Kill Holmes and..."

"Yes indeed you could kill Miss Holmes..." began Adler as he stood up and made his way over to the leader. "But it would be the loss of such a valuable brain in society and it would make me regret the silent alarm to call the police. Yes Miss Holmes' brain could do with a lot of work but...I don't see how she can't be intelligent at some point before she dies. Knowing her it'll be pretty soon with all the fights she picks with men and on her own."

"I don't see why that's a problem."

"You're either so very naive or so very stupid." Adler commented. They engaged in another staring contest. It was interrupted by people coming in to the house. Adler gave a nod and then turned round and punched the leader. Sherlock grabbed the gun at her head then hit her captor with it. Adler deal with the other two and Sherlock frowned. "Just because I bet you to the other two you're acting like a child?!" Adler asked, before locking the door. "I only needed them for distraction." He was referring to the police.

"Distraction?" she asked as he approached her. He put his hand on her cheek. "I'm so sorry. But you need to stop being nosy."

"I'm not..." she began before suddenly realised his hand was at her neck again. Why did she let her guard down so, was the big question she was going to ask when she woke up.

John ran up to Adler's house. Sherlock had texted him again to come and help her. He swallowed when he saw several men, being carried to a police van in handcuffs. He ran inside and bumped into a man in uniform. "Sorry..." John began.

"Not a problem. I wasn't looking where I was going." he replied, politely. "All that trouble upstairs with a locked door and thinking that consulting detective woman or whatever..."

John didn't listen to him anymore and he ran upstairs. The uniformed office smile before taking his jacket off and hat. He picked up the phone on the worktop. "_Well I'm leaving you in care of the laptop for a couple of hours. Don't see why I can't take care of your phone, Miss Holmes." _

John saw Lestrade at the door. "We don't know she is there!" Donovan spoke.

"We don't want to break evidence. There could be a dead body..." began Anderson. John pushed him out the way and removed a lock pick from his pocket.

"Been with the freak too long!" Donovan pointed out.

"She's not a freak!" John yelled at her, leaving her gobsmacked. His eyes darted to, Sherlock who was lying unconscious on the floor. "Not again."

John checked her pulse and breathed a sigh of relief.

Sherlock awoke on the sofa downstairs in Adler's living room. "Are you alright?" John asked.

"Where is he?!" she asked, getting up straight away. Only she fell backwards and onto the sofa. John made her sit for a while to get her head round everything. Or rather she wasn't. She'd been beaten again by the same man! A man! She wasn't happy. She began ranting words very quickly and in probably several different languages and all John could do was sit and stare at her pacing up and down. "So naturally we have to find the man."

She stormed upstairs and into the study. "Found a safe." Lestrade pointed out.

She looked it. "It's not been opened."

She walked up to it and began to use the touch screen. "Leave, I'm busy." she ordered.

* * *

**Later on that night...**

"So that's a laptop." John commented, when Sherlock sat it out on the coffee table in Baker Street.

"Excellent observation, John." she remarked sarcastically.

"Who's house was that?" John asked. "Was that Adler's?"

She wasn't listening. John frowned. "Mycroft has not been telling me everything. I just tried to call him and he's in a meeting. I don't trust that Gareth with a barge pole."

"Why?" John asked.

"Something that I can't put my finger on but I'll find out!" she replied. There was fear in her eyes that John had never seen before. She looked angry, confused and quite upset. She was always one to reign in her emotions but now she was there like some sort of wreck. The last time he'd saw that it was only for one brief moment at Christmas when her father had waltzed in. It must have been Adler that had done it.

"So what are we doing about the laptop then?"

"I am putting it somewhere where Adler can't find it. No doubt he'll be back for it. Goodnight, John."

She hid the laptop somewhere in her room before putting on her pyjamas and some of her perfume. She looked at her eyes in the mirror. She had never paid attention to them so much. "They are not sad!" she told herself bitterly, before walking over to her window and opening it for air. She could hardly breathe.

She fell asleep instantly, exhausted with the days running about. But her slumber was disturbed by the sound of something falling on the ground. "Sorry." a voice apologised.

"It's fine." she replied, ready to close her eyes again and then they darted open. "What are you doing here?"

"You're welcome to scream but I know you won't do, that! You're stubborn and you won't let yourself be weakened to by a man." he began as he approached her.

"What makes them better than me?" she hissed. Before she knew it he leaning on top of her. "Any other woman would have screamed by now."

Sherlock scoffed. "This is what makes you more vulnerable. Face it Miss Holmes you're not exactly the strongest. You're think for one and aren't strong to even moved my one hand on your wrist. She tried to get out of his grasp but couldn't.

"Why aren't you calling on, John?"

"Could you not have come back in the morning for your laptop? I'm busy."

"In the morning I won't have enough time. I need it now!" He blinked suddenly. "Do you put your perfume on before going to bed?"

"Why do you need the laptop?" she asked, changing the subject.

"Why do you have to know everything that goes on?"

"I was employed to do a job."

"Because they used your brother as a connection but at this moment in time, Miss Holmes your brother is losing his job because Gloria was under his wing and they are blaming him for letting her get this laptop. Why haven't you taken the laptop to Gareth?"

She looked into his eyes. "This has..." she began but the door opened.

"Sherlock are you alright?" John's voice asked, before putting on the light. "I heard a noise..."

John's eyes widened and looked on murderous.

* * *

A/N So we've got one person trying to drill logical sense in to Sherlockina and her big brother ready to murder anyone who causes her harm. Yeah. She needs to learn that people care about her and worry.


	27. Meeting One's Match Part 6

John sat on the sofa and stared at Adler who was sitting in the arm chair. "You're lucky I never killed you!" John warned him.

"I understand your anger towards me. Twice in the one day I rendered your little sister unconscious and then I was placing in her in quite a compromising situation. I assure though that she was able to call on you for help at any time."

"I can believe that." John replied, too tired to explain that Sherlock was not his sister. Sherlock walked into the living room and stared at Adler intently. He stared back. John looked from one to the other, confused. She didn't remove her eyes from his as she went to sit in her armchair.

She put her hands in a prayer ship to touch her lips. John wasn't even sure that any of them blinked. "John get me the laptop from upstairs. It's in the top drawer next to my bed." John shook his head and went upstairs to get it.

"My mobile please." she uttered.

"My laptop first." he replied.

"Here." John uttered, handing to Irenaeus.

"Did you know that Irenaeus was a saint too?" he asked.

"So you're like Saint Valentine. Instead of marrying people off you try to get married to people and fail."

"I was too much for them." he replied. "And a lot of them weren't happy that I prioritised my sister."

"What is her name?"

"Agata." he replied, proudly before typing in to the laptop. Sherlock got up and took it off of him. "Thank you, Mr Adler."

"It didn't work." he stated.

"No."

"You gave me a fake one."

"Yes to which you just put pass. Hardly a Fort Knox password is it? John go upstairs and get the real laptop. It's in the loose floorboard. You'll have to move out my bed to get into it."

Adler smiled and laughed before standing up. "I told you that I didn't want you being nosey."

"I'll be nosey if I like." she replied.

"Hmm...yeah. I know."

He went to bring his hand to her cheek and she grabbed it. "You know, one thing you should know. That laptop is important. Very important. I know when it's in my lap. I wouldn't have made that mistake but thank you for telling me your hiding place."

He stormed off and closed the living room door behind her. She tried to open it but something was blocking her. "No. No. No!"

John left the laptop on Sherlock's chest of drawers as he put the board back in place. When he looked around it was gone and Sherlock's window open. "Oh no!"

He ran downstairs to make sure he hadn't knocked Sherlock out again. He found her with her arms folded looking out of the window. "You should have went after him!"

"And left you here to be your own worst enemy?"

Sherlock grabbed her coat and scarf and put her boots on without even bothering to listen to John, or even put actual clothes on. She stormed out. "Sherlock!" John yelled.

* * *

Mycroft was surprised at how long the meeting he was in lasted. He rubbed his eyes and sighed before stepping into his office. He found boxes at the side, ready to be filled with his possessions. "Who gathered up the information on Adler?" he was asked. He looked to his desk to see his sister and he sighed before she continued. "I made tea."

"I see that." he replied bitterly. "I suppose you've heard the news about me leaving. I only heard about Adler just now. I never honestly expected it of him but then again you can't be sure."

Mycroft's phone rang. "Who on earth could that be?" Mycroft asked before answering it. "Demerry? How are you?..."

Sherlock walked out and Mycroft sighed. "I do apologise...oh...Well thank you."

Mycroft walked to the door to call Sherlock back but she wasn't there.

* * *

Sherlock still had not returned the next morning and John was more than worried. So he did the one thing he could think of and that was to call Mycroft.

* * *

Irenaeus got out his car and made his way through the ex army base until he got to the right bunker. He climbed down, holding the laptop in his hands. Then heard the clicking of guns. "Don't think for one moment, Mr Adler that you were going to just get your sister without our prize first!" spat Gareth's voice. Irenaeus turned around faced him. He handed him the laptop over and was then punched in the stomach. He couldn't do anything in fear of his sister's life. He was dumped in a cell on his own, where he let out a tremendous sigh.

* * *

Gareth plugged the laptop up to a mainframe server. "The code Adler would have been nice. Do you know it, dear Agata?"

Gareth turned to the frightened twelve year old who was looking at two masked men with guns. "Please...I don't know. Ask Gloria..."

"Your brother made the password!" Gareth replied. "Surely you should know! Isn't it a sister's way to meddle in her brother's secrets."

"Please. I don't know. Please let me go home. Please! My brother will give you any money you want. I know it."

"Oh Agata. It's not about money! I can get that anywhere!"

"Ask my brother he'll tell you."

"Your brother can give me two codes, Agata. Two codes. Either one of them could change how this missile launch I'm planning can work."

"I don't know." she replied.

Gareth turned to his tallest man. "You take her down to 205. See if you can get her to talk. I hope you like being drowned, Agata."

She was grabbed by the tallest of the two and the door closed behind them. "Shh." comforted a voice. "You're fine. Come on with me."

It was a female's voice and Sherlock took her mask off. "I knocked the other guy out."

She jingled a set of keys to Agata. "Now where would they take your brother if they brought him in?"

"Probably one of the bunkers."

"Come on then. Let's find them before they notice."

* * *

Irenaeus was still standing in his cell when the door opened. He saw Agata and outstretched his hands to hug her. The back of the person who brought her was turned, and he didn't see.

"If you've hurt her!" he began.

"It's Sherlock Holmes. The pretty detective." Agata spoke to Irenaeus.

She tossed the keys to Adler, without looking at him. "You shouldn't have stolen my phone. I have GPS tracking on it."

"Thank you." he replied, she put her hand up to stop him coming forward. "You won. Now take your glory and go. I may have lost to you but I am not losing to Gareth!"

"Oh wait you're not going back there..." began Irenaeus.

She walked on. "Take me home." Agata cried in to Irenaeus' suit jacket. His sister came first. He took her hand and began to lead her out.

* * *

"Well did you get the password?" Gareth asked before looking over to his man. He was shocked to see Sherlock.

"Hello Gareth! Or Mr Hughes...whatever! Adler doesn't know the password because I know it! He doesn't."

* * *

"She's doing it to buy us time." Agata explained. "That's so brave."

"That stupid. Stupid woman!" Irenaeus exclaimed. "She never listens! Never ever! I told her not to be nosy! Now she's going to get killed."

He was driving away at fast pace. "Agata please sit properly. If there is a crash then you'll get hurt and I want to get you home safely."

* * *

"Sir, the server for the missile launch has been accessed." Anthea explained to Mycroft. Mycroft looked to John who was sitting at the desk, worried about Sherlock. "Get them to try and get a video feed through the webcam."

"Yes sir. You're staying, sir?"

"I wouldn't be taking charge of this if I wasn't."

* * *

Sherlock knew she only had one chance to get the code right. One code to set off the launch and the other to disable it. The right code would be the one which disabled any more access to the server. Which one that was, she didn't know. She didn't know one password for any of them. She looked at the screen before her. The words I AM - - - - LOCKED on it.

"Well we're waiting, Miss Holmes." Gareth continued. "Let's ruin your brother for good. He's an absolute prick."

"Oh my brother didn't lose his job this morning. You did." Sherlock replied. "I got in touch with someone who sought out my help before. Naturally that put me in a position of being privy to some delicate information that they didn't want being made public. Little tip don't mess with the last of the Holmes'. It's not a good idea. You're not getting any money or anything for this! You'll lose your job and most like you'll go to prison! That if they don't kill you and you know why...because Irenaeus Adler was underestimated!"

"Thank you, Miss Holmes though for making him put his guard down a little..."

"Oh no he didn't at all." she replied. "In fact I would go as far to say that I was lacking in my own but...oh well. He's probably just reached my brother right now."

"Try Glow." a woman spoke. "That was always his pet name for me."

Sherlock looked up to see Gloria Norton. "Try it. Miss Holmes is being uncooperative."

Something rang in Sherlock's mind.

_"I'm impressed. Remind me to lock something with you next time." _

"No it's wrong!" Sherlock stated loudly. She walked up and typed in the code.

They looked to see the words 'I AM SHER LOCKED on the screen'

"Server disconnected. Please enter password to reconnect." Gloria read aloud.

"Sorry I must have put that other password in."

"It's not Glow." Gloria spoke frantically. "No! You've ruined everything!"

"I wish I knew the other password but..."

She was hit in the cheek. It was painful on her but she saw Gareth wince. "I hope you cut yourself on my cheekbone."

"When I'm through with you'll tell me the code."

* * *

**A half hour later...**

Sherlock was sheer agony. She barely move. She forced herself to sit up and lean her back against the wall. "Stay like that. It'll be better when I shoot you."

"You finally see I don't know the other code."

"Yes I do, Miss Holmes." Gareth replied. He aimed at her with his gun and went to fire. Sherlock was losing consciousness at the time and as soon as she heard the shot go off, she blacked out.


	28. Meeting One's Match Part 7

_Sherlock was in sheer agony. She could barely move. She forced herself to sit up and lean her back against the wall. "Stay like that. It'll be better when I shoot you."_

_"You finally see I don't know the other code."_

_"Yes I do, Miss Holmes." Gareth replied. He aimed at her with his gun and went to fire. Sherlock was losing consciousness at the time and as soon as she heard the shot go off, she blacked out._

* * *

The shot wasn't aimed at Sherlock at all, nor was it fired by Gareth. The shot was for Gareth himself. He fell to the ground with a thud; crimson leaking from his head. It was a cleanly executed shot. The shooter ran over to Sherlock and checked her pulse. "Sherlock wake up! Come on you! Wake up!"

It took him a good three minutes but eventually she came round. She winced as a light was shined in her face. "Sherlock, are you in pain?"

She relaxed, realising it was John. "No. I'm fine." she replied.

"Fine? Look at you!" he complained.

"Alright, in all honesty I feel terrible!"

"It's your own bloody fault!" he replied before pulling her into a hug.

**In the afternoon...**

Sherlock swallowed when Mycroft stormed into his office, where she waiting on him. "You wanted to see me?"

"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?!" he asked, towering over her. It put her in mind of all the times he used to scold her back when she was young. "YOU COULD HAVE GOTTEN YOURSELF KILLED!"

John listened from outside the office, looking up immediately when the elevator pinged. It was Irenaeus.

"Is she in there?" he asked, pointing to Mycroft's office.

"Good luck interrupting them." John replied, watching Irenaeus sit down and wait.

"Is she alright?" he asked. The door opened and Sherlock walked out, cracking her fingers.

"John. Let's go!"

"Sherlockina." spoke Irenaeus, causing Sherlock to turn around and face him.

"Yes?" she asked bitterly.

"How stupid are you?!"

"Very!"

"So I've gathered!"

"Then why did you ask?"

"It was a rhetorical question." he replied, before engaging in yet another staring match.

"Hamish!"

Sherlock turned around. "John Hamish Watson. If you're looking for baby names."

"Sorry about dinner." Sherlock replied to Irenaeus, before leaving with John.

* * *

"I see you've got a date." Sherlock commented to John as he came in to the living room with a smart shirt and smart trousers on. "Is she very pretty?"

"You don't even know who it is?"

"Your boss, by any chance?" she questioned. "Sarah Sawyer?"

"Have you been reading my reference letter?" John asked. Sherlock shrugged and picked up her violin. "Will you be alright, while I'm out? Promise me you'll phone if you get into trouble!"

"I'll be fine John and no I won't promise." she replied, before playing a tune on her violin, John had never heard before.

"What about Irenaeus Adler?" John asked.

"What about The Man?" Sherlock replied.

"Do you think you'll ever see him, again?"

She never replied and John left to go downstairs. He found a parcel on the doorstep addressed to Sherlock and put it inside, before shouting up to her to let her know. She was still at the window, playing her violin when he looked up. She wasn't even moving. Needless to say, he was never going to stop worrying about her.

Sherlock finally put her violin down and she walked downstairs to go for a walk. That was where she saw the parcel. She took it upstairs to her room and opened it to find a card. It was a valentine's day card and she couldn't help but chuckle. "Persistent."

She read it and put it on her bedside table, before looking at the presents inside. There was a bottle of perfume and she laughed. It was hard not to. Then she opened a jewellery box to find a lovely necklace and a note. **"My sister picked it out. Said it would go well with your eyes. Happy Valentines Day. Please don't feel too down because I am smarter than you. It happens. The point is you came close, Miss Holmes. That is an achievement. Thank you. Maybe if we meet again, we'll have dinner. xx." **

She smiled. "You still haven't given me back my phone you bastard!" she uttered before bursting into laughter and putting on the necklace. It was a beautiful pendant, in the shape of a key with an amethyst in the middle.

**14th November 2014**** – The Second Stain**

I remember when Sherlock met her match, and when she stopped criticizing men. Irenaeus Adler was his name and he got the better of her. I didn't see much of what happened. I was mostly absent at the time but when I was there in the same room as them, I felt as if I was interrupting something.

The way they stared at each other was intense. I think he even asked her to dinner, and I think she actually considered it. But I think she turned bitter towards him. She didn't mention him often and when she did it was under the title "The Man". Was that a salute? The one man that matters or was it her avoiding his name, because she despised him. It's hard to tell.

I walked into her room during the case she was doing, which she still doesn't talk much about - all I remember was that she badly beaten because of her usual need to prove herself, which I now understand because she was always trying to be good at something because she blamed herself for the way her father treated her mother - well I walked into her room when I heard something fall on the floor and I was worried about her, because Adler had knocked her out twice (I don't think he hit her) and when I walked in, he was leaning on top of her, quite suggestively.

Sherlock looked actually uncomfortable and I was ready for killing him but she casually introduced us. I remember being annoyed because she never called out. She had the ability to do it but she didn't. She still never cared about her vulnerability as a woman to men.

Then something happened and she went to help him. Sherlock didn't just help people, especially not after being bested by them. She sulked but she didn't sulk that much with Adler. I think the poor woman struggled to see that someone was just as sharp and good as she was and that he wasn't a mass murderer.

She got badly hurt and I was angry at her. I told her off and then I hugged her. She didn't let anyone hug her normally but she never stopped me from doing it. She was my little sister, and I think she acknowledged that. Hell, even Adler acknowledged that.

So when Adler and her parted ways she was depressed for a good few hours and played this one tune over and over again and I think perhaps it was dedicated to him because it was the first piece I was aware she'd composed something of her own.

I wish I was around the whole time to know everything that went on in her mind but you can't because it's Sherlock. Who knows what went on in that funny little head of hers. I still miss her terribly. I don't think I'll ever stop but Mary understands. She always understands. She's the only one I didn't have to explain to that Sherlock and I were purely platonic. She just knew.

I have work to do now. Being a surgeon is good. It's less exciting but it pays the bills and it helps me meet Mary for lunch - that's if our lunch is at the same time. So that's it. Perhaps I'll upload another case soon. But right now, I'm not feeling as bad. So I might not. Perhaps work and Mary is just what I need.

* * *

A/N Link in profile to the necklace she was bought. Big thanks to JaneEyre0 and PushToShove. Also to Madam Boast A Lot. I was so very touched by your review. :) Thanks so much. It's Baskerville next and I'm looking forward to doing it and I wil reveal that the one after that is called "To Owe A Fall" and it'll be in John's POV and then I'll get working on Potterlock for a while before I update this one.


	29. The Baskerville Mystery Part 1

After many times of shopping and having bad luck with the self-service check outs in the supermarket, John finally decided to take his shopping to a regular checkout. His only hope was that when he got back to the flat after waiting in the long queue Sherlock would not turn around and tell him she'd forgotten to ask for something or that she'd changed her mind. Her phone had not been returned by Irenaeus Adler and despite loving her phone very much she had decided to live without one, living with the idea that Mycroft would not be able to easily get in touch with her. John had not broken it to her that Mycroft could easily make a visit within person.

As well as there being a lack of communication with her having no phone, John was fully aware that Sherlock had not left the flat since the incident with Adler. She was rarely speaking, except to criticise or make simple deductions, and would often spend her evenings playing the violin or reading. He was worried that she was frightened to go out. But he pushed that thought to the back of his head.

He made his way out of the supermarket and grabbed a taxi. When he got in to the flat he heard crying. "I'm sorry." he heard Sherlockina apologise. "I can't take a case for a dog. I…"

"But please. If Baskerville lab is giving off fumes…"

"There is no scientific evidence."

"That's why I've come to you Miss Holmes. Please. No one will listen. My parents won't listen. I can hear the howls of the dogs from my room at night. We live right next to the forest where we think they've gone."

John heard Sherlock sigh. "It's out of my hands."

"But Miss Holmes. You're the best detective in all of London. The whole word I'd go as far to say. You're the best. Please. Help me! I can't stand by and watch animals get harmed. Their eyes are so red…"

"You've seen them…"

"I went looking for Barney when I first heard the howls. There was mist. I don't even know how…but then there was the dog. I don't know and its eyes were so red and it was snarling and growling."

"Everything all right?" John asked, wandering in to the living room.

"Henry this is Dr, John Watson, my colleague. John Watson this is Henry Knight. She has come forth with a case for me." Sherlock spoke.

"I'll make you some tea." John spoke.

"Not it's fine. I should be getting back home. I'm sorry for taking up your time Miss Holmes. I see you're busy…being depressed."

Sherlock's head shot up. "I beg your pardon?"

"Your eyes…you're depressed. I don't need to be you to see that this is out of character for you. On your website you complain from the lack of cases…"

"Yes. I will take a quick look around your village. How does that sound?" Sherlock asked quickly.

"Thank you!" the teenager squealed before jumping up and hugging Sherlock. "Thank you so so much!"

She then ran up and hugged John and John patted her back. "Thank you."

Henry turned to Sherlock. "Thank you so much. You can come to our house for dinner tomorrow and tea. Just don't tell my mum I asked you to call me Henry she thinks its un-lady like." rambled Henry before leaving and Sherlock smiled.

"Don't you envy her energy and sudden happiness amongst her sadness?" Sherlock asked, somewhat bemused. "Young people."

"Reminded me a bit of you actually." John spoke. "Only much more charming."

"Being charming is for knights in shining armour is it not?" Sherlock replied. "Besides I have to go and pack a suitcase. I'm going off to Devon."

"I'm coming too."

"You better hurry then." Sherlock replied before walking upstairs. She began to pack; her perfume first to go in her suitcase. John knocked and opened the door.

"Listen Sherlock I'm glad you're investigating this."

"It's a quick look and then we're coming back. There is absolutely nothing in this story at all I can tell you John. Dogs don't become mutants over night because there is a pharmaceutical lab half a mile from the village."

"Is that what that girl thinks?"

"Henrietta is very sweet. I admire her courage to go against her parents' wishes and call herself Henry but I do not think for one moment that she saw a dog with monstrous looking eyes. Red eye is possible but if…"

"Sherlock you need to investigate this. You've not left the house in over a month! I'm worried. If you're frightened because of what happened with Adler…"

"I'm not frightened because of the situation with that stupid laptop and The Man; do I make myself perfectly clear, John?"

"I'm here, Sherlock. There's no shame in admitting your problems."

"I don't have problems John. I have catastrophes." Sherlock replied. Her and John suddenly started laughing.

"Yeah you do!" John agreed.

Sherlock sighed. "Thank you for saying you'll accompanying me."

"Do you think I'm going to let you go there on your own? I don't think so." John replied, before leaving.

* * *

John was shocked. He was riding shotgun in a jeep that Sherlock was driving. He had been there for a few hours. He had no idea she could drive. He didn't ask where she got the jeep from and nor was he going to. He was worried she would turn around and say she pick-pocketed it from someone because they were annoying.

"When did you learn to drive?" John asked.

"When I was nineteen." Sherlock replied. "It's getting dark."

"Yeah." John agreed.

They got there half an hour later and John got them rooms above the pub to stay in. "Sorry I couldn't get a double room for you lovebirds." the man at the bar said, apologetically.

"We're not a couple." John replied. "She's my sister."

"Apologies." the man replied. "Looks like that guy checking out her ass might be okay after all."

John rolled his eyes and walked over to Sherlock who was looking a map. "Sherlock…" John began.

"Busy." she replied.

"I think you should go and rest." John spoke. "You look tired. You've been driving for hours. You can talk to the villagers in the morning and do whatever you have to do in the morning."

Sherlock turned around to the man who was staring at her. He had just approached. "Hey…" he began.

"John I can't be bothered." Sherlock replied, before handing him the map. "Goodnight."

"That's my sister." John told the guy.

"And?"

"I am very protective. I guess I get like that with. What with me being in the army and all that."

He walked off, leaving John still holding the map. He put it down at the table he assumed Sherlock had gotten it from and then he saw a phone magazine. He decided to take it up to Sherlock. "Sherlock…" John began knocking on the door. She opened it instantly.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"I think you'd maybe want to look at this." he replied, handing her the magazine. "It's phones."

"I don't need a phone."

"Well Adler has your other phone."

"Excellent observation."

"If you want your old phone back, why don't you just let me phone your old phone and ask?"

"Old phone would imply I already have a new one John." Sherlock replied. "I liked that phone because it matched my favourite blouse."

John couldn't help but notice she was twirling her key necklace. "You know you never told me where you got that."

She closed the door in his face. "OK. I'm across the hall if you need me." he sighed. "But why would you?"

* * *

A/N So we have John being a nice big brother and protective and a bit of the aftermath of her meeting with Adler.


	30. The Baskerville Mystery Part 2

Sherlock tossed and turned but couldn't sleep. Suddenly she heard a rattling on her window. She went to investigate it and opened up the window. Down below was Henry throwing stones at the window pane. "Sherlock, I can hear howling coming from the forest."

Sherlock looked around. She wasn't getting any sleep. "Two minutes." she replied. She threw a jumper on over her pyjama top and then put on some boots. She climbed down and Henry laughed, before handing Sherlock a torch.

"Do I amuse you?" Sherlock asked her.

"Yes. You're very funny. You don't care about what people think of you. Hmm…What's that perfume it smells nice?"

"Midnight Murder."

"Wow, that's cool. My mother would never let me wear a perfume called that." Henry remarked. "Where did you get that nice necklace by the way?"

"Where is the forest?" she asked Henry.

"Behind my house. That's why I can hear it." the teenager replied, unaware of how Sherlock swiftly changed the subject.

As they made their way through the forest, Sherlock and Henry talked more. "You said that you think chemicals being giving off by the lab on the outskirts are causing mutations in dogs?"

"They just managed to disappear out of the houses, or out of their cages outside. They are broken very badly. What I mean is…it's like a grenade went off and ripped it apart."

Sherlock was sceptical. On a tree branch she immediately spotted a piece of fabric. On it was a symbol. "That's the symbol for the lab isn't it?"

"Yes that's Baskerville lab." Henry replied, before removing a clear evidence bag from her pocket. Sherlock frowned in thought and Henry laughed, and shrugged.

Sherlock put the fabric in the bag and continued walking. They heard howls. The place suddenly became surrounded in mist. "Sherlock; I'm not liking this very much." Henry stated. Sherlock put her hand on Henry's shoulder.

"We'll come back in the morning then."

"I have to find Barney."

They suddenly heard growling and all the both of them could see through the mist was a pair of red eyes. They disappeared as more mist surrounded them, and they heard growling.

When the mist faded away nothing was there, except paw prints. Sherlock looked around. "Interesting." she commented. "Best get you home."

Henry began to shiver. Sherlock held her the whole way, as she led Henry back to her house. "You see, I wasn't lying." Henry told Sherlock.

"You weren't lying about what you saw. The rumours of a mutation; it's too much of a fairy-tale for my liking though."

Henry opened the door and signalled for Sherlock to be quiet. They made their way in to the kitchen and Sherlock tried to think of how she could calm Henry down. Then she remembered that when she was ill or something was wrong, John always made her tea. She made some for, Henry.

"Thanks." Henry replied. "You know, you're not a freak by the way. Just in case that's what is making you sad. I can see it in your eyes. You're not sad when John is around, because you don't want him to know that you're sad because you know he's the only one who cares."

Sherlock swallowed. "You're not the first one to think that my eyes look that way. I am not sad though."

"I think you are, though." Henry replied.

"I'll come see you in the morning. Or you can come and find me. I'll see you later." Sherlock replied, quickly.

* * *

John found, Sherlock having breakfast the next day. It wasn't like her to eat during a case so he assumed that she'd given up on it. "So, you're eating. Does that mean we have no case?"

"On the contrary. There is indeed something at plague in this village."

"I don't know about it either." John agreed, drawing her a questioning glance. She never ate during a case. "Sherlock can I ask you something?"

"What?" she asked, before taking a sip of her orange juice.

"Are you pregnant or something? It's just you're eating…"

Sherlock spluttered and choked on her juice. "It would be quite impossible for me to be anything of the sort. I'm hungry that's all!"

She stood up. "Stop thinking that there is something wrong with me, John. I know you think you're being a good friend but…let's face it John. I don't have friends." she said with a sorrowful tone. "I have a big brother who isn't really my brother. Don't worry about me, John. I'm fine. I'm not frightened. Not one bit!" Then she laughed. "And I'm certainly not pregnant."

John laughed as well. "I'm not complaining that you're eating when you're hungry that's good. Really good."

Sherlock smiled. "I'll pay for breakfast. What do you want?"

"Fry up." John replied.

* * *

Henry didn't sleep and the bags under her eyes were the first thing her mother noticed. "Were you up all night looking for your crazy conspiracies? It's not healthy."

She pretended to listen to her mother's ranting while she turned off. She began to make herself some tea. "A friend of mine from London is in the village and I said she could come to dinner. She's a detective."

"Oh that's wonderful. Perhaps she can find out who has been letting the dogs out of their cages. Perhaps even find them."

"Maybe. Or she can prove that the Baskerville lab is dangerous!"

"I have no doubt that the chemicals are dangerous, darling but they are not causing mutations. You watch too much television."

"Maybe." Henry replied. The best thing to do was agree with her mother and that way she wouldn't continue on a spiel."

"Oh and Dr Watson, the detective's colleague is coming too."

"Lovely." Mrs Knight replied. "I would put some make up on to cover up those bags, dear. We don't want the rest of the village talking about you."

"God it's like Midsummer Murders." Henry replied.

"Henrietta, dear please don't be upset if they don't find Barney."

Henry sighed.

* * *

"I want to check out what this lab is doing. Henry and I found a piece of fabric. Most likely from a worker's lab coat. They were in that forest for some reason." Sherlock explained to John as they made their way to the forest.

"Perhaps it's a publicity stunt or something. I mean there's no such thing as bad publicity."

"Hmm…never theorize without fact." John and Sherlock ended up saying in unison.

"I also want to see Henry. She'll know what other dogs are missing. I want to examine how they escaped."

"I've got photographs of the crime scenes." Henry said, causing John to jump.

"Oh. You're here." Sherlock said with a smile.

"Yes. I noticed you walking by my house. I'll come with you and the both of you are coming to my house for dinner. My mum is annoying though. I love her and all but she's so worried about what others thing and my dad is alright, but. My little brother is nice though. But apparently 'm a really bad influence. Oh well."

John shook his head and Sherlock smiled. _"I remember a time when I was like that once. So happy and full of energy. At least you won't turn out like me, Henry."_

A/N Sorry for late up-date. So we're getting a bit of character development and a bit more into the hidden reasons why Sherlock is the way she is and her own feelings. And, I realise that some of you are wanting Adler to return. He will. I promise. Just not in this. Thanks every one of you!


	31. The Baskerville Mystery Part 3

Henry was showing Sherlock the photos she'd taken; the aftermath of the dog escapes. Sherlock carefully glanced at them. For the dogs who had slept outside in cages, the metal fencing was hanging off. Almost as if the dogs had just ploughed through them with their own bodies. There were giant holes in the doors of the houses that had dogs sleeping inside the home.

"I think it is cruel making animals sleep outside. Especially dogs." Henry, spoke. "My mother thinks different. They mess up her much clean house."

Sherlock put the photos on the coffee table and Henry tidied them away. John watched as Sherlock put her hands into their usual pyramid shape that they went in when she was thinking about something.

John examined Henry's house with his eyes. A painting hung on the wall above the fireplace with Henry and the rest of her family in it. "I think we ought to go into the forest right now. I also think we should make a trip to Baskerville." Sherlock spoke aloud.

"Can I come?" Henry asked.

"No." Sherlock replied, before standing up.

John looked on as Henry's face fell. Sherlock noticed it too and sighed. She stood, thinking for a moment and then she swallowed and then gave a different reply to the teenager. "Yes. Fine. Good." she told her, her throat struggling to allow her to speak. Her words were hoarse. John blinked.

Henry was first to follow Sherlock outside. John stood for a moment before rushing out. Sherlock had been acting strangely for a little longer than a month. He was worried. She seemed to be far more sensitive that she'd ever been. It all started during the business with Adler and the laptop. The only thing he could think of was that she was a little shaken up still from being beaten up badly. Almost dead. He'd never be able to recover from the fear and nausea he felt when he saw her like that and the feeling that if he'd been a second later he'd have lost her; his younger sister – no matter whether or not they had the same blood flowing through his veins.

Sherlock was vulnerable. Almost like a young girl Henry's age. She looked Henry's age when she pouted sometimes. Sometimes he would look at Sherlock and she would seem so happy, and other times when he'd go in to get something to eat from the kitchen and Sherlock was staring in to space, unaware of his presence, he could swear she looked somewhat pensive and sorrowful. When he'd call out her name, her expression would change. He'd never question it. It probably wouldn't do him any good.

They all made their way into the forest. Sherlock looking around her. "Let's split up." suggested Henry. "I'll go with John that way and you carry on that way."

Sherlock was surprised at how cheerful Henry managed to be. She was always so filled with energy, and happy even when she was sad. Sherlock sighed. She felt too tired somehow to say no, and get in to an argument with a hyperactive teenager who had probably read too many crime novels.

"If John doesn't think that's a problem." Sherlock replied.

John didn't mind Henry going with him at all but he was worried about Sherlock. She hadn't been on her own, for quite a while, outside. He thought for a moment.

"I'm sure that means, yes." Sherlock butted in. She wanted to be alone for a while. Subconsciously she began twiddling her necklace in her fingers.

"Are you going to tell me where you got that?" John asked.

"I'll catch you later." she replied, before walking on in her direction.

"Hmm…That necklace is mysterious. I asked her a question about it last night and she didn't reply. I didn't realise at first but now you come to mention it to her and she did that…" Henry thought aloud.

"Really?" John asked.

"I don't miss much. And if I do I remember it later." Henry replied, skipping on her way. John had to take long strides to keep up with her, as he tried to examine every inch of the forest he was walking in.

"Hey what's that?" Henry asked, pointing to something that was lying on the ground. John picked it up.

"That's some sort of leather." John said, frowning as he thought.

"It's from a collar." Henry said.

John found another piece of the collar a little further on. Henry found another piece on a low hanging tree branch. "It's almost as if the collar has burst into pieces. Almost as if the dogs have grown to an incredible size and burst them open."

John didn't bother replying. "What I want to know. Who's dog was that? Blue leather…That's Pat's dog, Misha. She's a husky."

"Or someone else's dog with a blue collar."

"Could but Misha is the only one who has a little drawing of a husky in the inside." replied Henry as she showed John another piece she'd just found. He saw a little drawing. A husky. Suddenly Henry stopped smiling. She looked sad. John put his hand on her shoulder. "It's alright. If anyone can find out what's going on. It's her! She's a pain in the arse but she's brilliant."

* * *

Sherlock went walking onwards until her eyes came across footprints. She took photos of them with her phone. They were dog prints but they were the size of hooves. Sherlock continued to walk on until she heard barking. It stopped, before she could pinpoint where it was coming from. The way the dogs sounded, was somewhat devilish.

She continued to walk on until she could see Bakerville lab from where she was standing. She knew she wasn't going to get in there without permission.

* * *

John received a text from Sherlock asking him to meet her at the pub. Henry said she'd go back home and wait for a while. When John got there he ordered a beer. As he was drinking he noticed a boy just a little older than Henry arguing with the pub owner. John frowned as he watched the teen sign a receipt of some sort. The owner walk to the bar and slammed it down with another pile.

"Need to talk to you." he said to the bartender. When he was away, John let curiosity take over and he took a look at the receipt before taking a photograph and putting it back. He went to look for Sherlock, and found her talking to the guy who had been 'checking her' out the night before. She was laughing. He recognised it as her fake laugh. What was she up to now?

"I've always wanted to go and see a lab. What is it you do at Baskervilles?" John heard her ask him.

"Apart from causing genetic mutations in dogs like the rumours suggest? Cosmetics, and some of us have our own private projects. Medicine and stuff. I mean we couldn't be any more friendly to animals. We are one of the few labs who refuse to experiment on them."

"That's so kind." Sherlock replied. "I think a man involved in science is a very powerful man."

"I should take you to see the lab. Right now. I'm on my way back."

"Really?" Sherlock asked. John clenched his fists. She was not being herself. Old Sherlock would never have done that. Something about her had changed and he sure as hell wasn't letting her go to a lab on her own with some stranger.

"Oh John there you are. Have you met, Ralph?" she asked. "Ralph this is John my brother."

"Hello. I believe we met last night." Ralph replied, with a smile.

"John is a doctor. Well an army doctor. Can he come? I'm sure the lab would be of interest to him and I would be forever grateful."

"I don't see why not." Ralph replied. "I'm very high up in the lab. I have my own office and stuff."

"Stuff?" Sherlock questioned.

"Maybe my own lab area."

"That's fun. I have to use my kitchen. John gets really mad about it. Especially when I blow up his cans of beer."

"Hey maybe you could start working with us. You could end up with your own lab too."

"Maybe." Sherlock nodded.

"Can I talk to you a minute, Sherlock about that thing we were discussing earlier this morning?" John asked.

"Do you mind?" Sherlock asked, Ralph.

"Not at all. I'll wait outside for you." he replied.

"Sherlock what the bloody hell do you think you are doing?" John asked, taking her aside.

"We need in to Baskervilles and I am well aware he was ogling me last night. Therefore some sign of attraction. If he's ogling me then he's desperate. "

_"Modesty? Really? Oh that business with Adler has changed you a little, hasn't it Sherlockina?" John thought. _

"He can get us in to Baskerville with ease. I don't see the problem. He's not my type. So you don't have to worry, John."

"But you're his."

"And if I have any problems. You'll be the first to know. Why do you think I asked you to come with me?"

John frowned. She really had changed her tune.

"You sure he would try. After all he's man and they are not that bright?" John replied.

"That's got nothing to do with it." Sherlock replied before walking outside. John frowned in thought again. Sherlock didn't have a type. Sometimes that woman confused him.

* * *

A/N So we have John being protective, and trying to drill sense in to her. Sherlock's beginning to get more and more sad, as we lead up to her imminent death. We're also aware that Adler has affected her in some way that she's changed a little. Also, could it be that Sherlock's type is Mr Adler?

I promise he'll come back. When….well that's just a wait and see.


	32. The Baskerville Mystery Part 4

"Did you find anything interesting when you went to Baskerville?" Henry asked, John as soon as she saw him back in the village.

"Not much. Sherlock's buggered off." John replied, before realising he had cursed in front of a young woman. "Sorry."

"Nah I've said much worse." she replied, shrugging it off. John tried not to chuckle at what seemed like a comment that would be made by his younger sister – Harry. John looked around expecting Sherlock to suddenly appear from thin air; because she often did, yet there was no sign of her -and then he saw her standing her room in the pub, looking out of the window. She looked down at John and the army doctor waved. She gave a glance in return before turning away.

* * *

Sherlock switched on her laptop and began to type in to the search engine. When she had found what she'd wanted, she looked at the photos from Henry's 'crime scene'. Her hands resumed their normal prayer shape as she thought.

John knocked and stepped inside five minutes later. Sherlock was not aware he was there. The jewel in her key shaped necklace glistened from the sunlight and John still couldn't help but wonder where she could have gotten such a necklace. It looked expensive. Even for her.

"Sherlock…" John began.

"You took a photo of something, while I was talking to Ralph. I didn't fail to notice it. I just haven't had time to address it." she spoke before holding her hand out.

John handed his phone over, after bring up the photo. She looked at it. "That's requesting kibble. Different brands…." John said. "I don't know if that's…"

"Those brands are the brands for every dog…look at the photos." Sherlock explained, before showing John. "Once again our mysterious plot unravels just a little bit more."

"Sherlock." John spoke. He wasn't even going to get into an argument how he wasn't aware of half it. He learned to just go along with it.

"Yes?" she asked, before standing up and opening up her suitcase. She began rummaging through it, looking for something.

"I think you have been acting strangely. I know what you're going to say."

"John we've been through this…"

"Ralph. Since when do you flirt to get what you want? It's not your style. You don't find it effective and yet suddenly you're using your womanly charm. Not that you have a real one. It's all fake."

"Well sometimes the more you do a certain job the more experienced you become with things. You learn that sometimes the quickest ways, more suited to someone's personality…"

"Sherlock…you're lying to me. You're not yourself…I am just getting that from you. So…I just want you to know that if there is anything that you need…I'm here!"

"I don't need anything, John. No one needs anything. Want is by far a much more better word. And what I want you can't possibly give me. So thank you but I don't need, or want anything."

John swallowed. "I'm only trying to help." he replied, looking down at the ground. "I care about you."

"Why?" Sherlock asked. "Why do you care about me, John? Now take a good moment to think about that as you leave. I will see you downstairs. Dinner with Henry soon. Then we are going out in to the forest."

* * *

"So you're a detective, Miss Holmes?" Henry's mother asked.

Sherlock glanced up at the woman and smiled. The word obviously was battling to be spoken but Sherlock was just not going to say anything nasty. She wasn't. "Yes." she replied before sipping her wine.

"My husband does apologise for not making it. He's very busy…" she began.

"Daddy is always busy. He works really hard." Henry, explained to Sherlock. "Just a short hand version of what my mother was going to tell you."

"Perhaps that is why she's been so childish lately." she criticised. "I don't get that problem off of her brother. Her father spoils her you see."

Sherlock looked to Henry's younger brother and she heard Henry sigh. "Sherlock how did you get on at the lab today?" Henry asked.

"Henrietta. A detective doesn't share their work with children."

"Actually, Mrs Knight, Henrietta has been an excellent assistant. I do require her services again some point this night. You have a very intelligent daughter. I'd be proud."

Mrs Knight never said another word about Henrietta after that. Henry smiled to Sherlock but the detective was looking away. John couldn't help but remain silent too. He was somewhat proud of Sherlock. He smiled.

* * *

"So what are we looking for?" asked both John and Henry at the same time, while Sherlock led them through the forest. Sherlock never replied. She carried on through the forest and then heard the howling. "What time does it say on your phone, Henry?"

"Ten. Exactly ten." she told, Sherlock.

"What time did the howling start last night?"

"The same time because I remember…"

Sherlock began storming off again causing Henry to silence herself. "Before that. The day before that. Before I came here, what time?"

"Oh my god I think it was ten. The same time every night." Henry told, Sherlock. Sherlock's hands went into another pyramid shape.

"Dogs don't howl at an exact time. They howl and bark in accordance with their environment. Why a pattern? " she asked, spinning around in circles. Mist began to surround them suddenly. Sherlock continued to walk through it, following where the sound of the howling was coming from.

The next thing she knew she being thrown to the ground and something hit her cheek. "John!" Sherlock shouted. She felt hands around her throat. She grabbed them and pulled them away from her neck. "John help!"

As soon as John heard Sherlock shout help, he was frightened. She never called out for help. "John!" John swallowed. Something was incredibly wrong. Why else would Sherlock call out for help or perhaps she'd learned her lesson in the Adler business; either way his gut instincts were tell him to hurry up. "Stay there!" John commanded, Henry.

When John had gotten to Sherlock the mist had gone There was no sign of anyone or anything. Only large paw prints. Sherlock was on the ground a little bloody. "You alright?" John asked.

Sherlock stood up and looked around. She felt a stinging pain in her arm and looked to see a needle. "John…" she uttered before falling over, unconscious.

John looked at the needle before carefully removing it out of her arm. "What happened?" Henry asked.

"I don't know." John replied.


	33. The Baskerville Mystery Part 5

Sherlock woke up in her room, and looked around. "John!" she shouted out, her voice a little slurred. Still sedated. He wasn't there. She sighed and rubbed her neck, before getting up. She saw a post it note, on the table. She fell over trying to read it. **"If you wake up just go back to sleep! JW"**

She sighed and used the wall to lean against for a moment as she tried to remember what happened. She put her hand on her forehead. Her head was throbbing. The door opened and Sherlock fell over. "Come on. Back to bed."

"I am fine, John. I'm doing a case." she replied.

John grabbed her and dragged her over. "Not until you're better. Then we'll discuss what happened."

"I'm fine…."she began before feeling her throat. "John…where…where…"

"I don't know what happened to it. I'm sorry." John replied.

"No." Sherlock replied, trying to get up. "Need."

Her head hit the pillow and she went to sleep. John patted her shoulder before leaving.

As soon as she woke up again, she got up and changed her clothes. It was morning. She was going to find her necklace, and then get on with the case. It felt strange not having the piece of jewellery around her neck. She'd been so used to it.

"Where are you going?" John asked as soon as she was out in the hall. She ignored him and stormed downstairs, and out of the pub before making her way to the forest. She looked around her when she got there. She couldn't find her necklace. She kicked a rock. _"Why do I care, anyway?!" she shouted in her head. _

She made her way onwards and then slipped on some leaves. She got up and looked. There was a board. The leaves had been covering it. She lifted it up and her eyes widened.

* * *

John pointed out the boy who'd been talking to the pub owner, the other day. The one who'd gotten in to an argument. "Alright?" a voice asked. Sherlock turned around to see, Lestrade.

"What…." began Sherlock.

"Mycroft sent him." John relied.

"Why?" Sherlock replied.

"He thought you needed help." Lestrade replied. "You're lucky I came. Need a hand?"

"Actually I do." Sherlock replied but before she could continue, Henry grabbed her shoulder.

"You're not going to believe this. My school was broken into."

"Shouldn't you be there, just now?" Lestrade asked her.

"No. Because they were doing work on the toilets and it's legal requirement or something to have them." Henry replied. "Anyway, guess what department was hit?...The art department. Only they were just using the kiln and of course some clay but it happened just a couple of days they reckon before the dogs began escaping and the mutations started."

Sherlock bit her lip. "About the mutations, Henry…They're not real. It's just a rumour."

"You don't know that. Even you don't know that. What attacked you yesterday? Look at the bruise on your check, and the scratches on your neck."

"I felt hands, wrap around my throat." Sherlock replied. "I think if you can't remain objective, Henry then your help will no longer be required."

She looked hurt. "But…"

"No. I mean it." Sherlock replied.

Henry walked away with her hands in her pockets. "Sherlock…"John began.

"I know it was harsh but she's refusing to see reality and the more I ignore the subject of there not being mutations then the more I let her think she's correct when she's not and the harder the blow will be when she finds out she's not right."

Silence fell.

"I need to show you two, something." Sherlock stated.

* * *

She led them to the forest, and lifted up the piece of wood from the ground. Before John knew it he heard a bark. "Now, I don't know about laws about dognapping and such but I do know that keeping such an amount of them, in such an enclosed ditch is quite, animal cruelty."

Lestrade and John looked down. "I suppose you have a suspect?" he asked.

"Oh I do." Sherlock replied. "Remember that boy having the argument. He seemed to have a lot of a need for kibble."

* * *

Lestrade sat in front of Melvin Clarke and showed him photographs of the 'dognapping' scenes and of the ditch where the dog was, and then finally the receipt photo. "Now I think this is all very incriminating and I haven't even asked you any questions yet." Lestrade spoke.

Melvin shrugged and looked up as, Sherlock sat beside Lestrade. "Organic Interchem. You had a letter from them."

"Yes, and?" Melvin asked.

"And those are Baskerville's main rival." Sherlock replied. "I saw the letter in the crime scene photos that Henrietta Knight gave me."

"Might have known that nerd would have been involved with this!" Melvin commented.

"Well if you're in for stereotyping then I have…"

Lestrade looked at her and she went back on topic. "How much did they offer you?"

"I beg your pardon?" Melvin asked.

"You were being paid by Organic Interchem to sabotage the laboratory. But, you went too extreme. You went with genetic mutations. No one's going to believe that!"

"Actually they reckon with the amount of carbon fourteen that we've got that dogs will be the size of horses soon." Melvin replied.

"They reckon and that takes years. It's not even going to happen at this side of the millennium that's for sure and you called, Miss Knight a nerd!"

"Sherlock…" Lestrade began.

"No. No. No." Sherlock droned. "Organic Interchem came to four young people."

"Wrong. You're so stupid."

"Or someone working with Organic Interchem did. Don't tell me I'm wrong or stupid!" she replied, ready to touch her necklace and then remembering it had been stolen. She continued after a swallow. "You placed speakers up in trees, along with a backing CD of the dogs barking and howling. It was on a timer and so went off every night at ten o'clock. Too much of a pattern. Animals behave in accordance to their environment and changes within their environment. Especially domesticated dogs. You were sent a small cheque from Organ Interchem, as was everyone else who had their dog stolen. Everyone except Henrietta Knight. Now it could have been a school thing but Henrietta is the only one who takes Chemistry at A-level. Organ Interchem only offer work experience to people who are top in their class at A-level chemistry. So why didn't she have one? Because it wasn't work experience. You had an inside man in the lab who was also being paid by Organic Interchem."

Melvin swallowed and Lestrade turned around to Sherlock. She was talking so quickly he could barely keep up with her.

"That inside man gave you a ripped piece of Baskerville fabric which you hung on a tree branch. He also gave you goggles that glowed red in the dark. In the event that someone finally came to investigate Baskerville and the mutant dogs, then their suspicions would be even further to the laboratory but no, that was too much of a point in the Baskerville direction. Should have been more careful. You broke into your school; you and your friends. Made pottery paw prints, the size of hooves. Was how you made the prints. Could walk in them. Run, maybe not so much. Hence the reason you had the mist. On both a timer and a pressure plate or two. It was would hide you while you got away. You used wire cutters to break into the cages of the dogs who slept outside. Faulty wire cutters that were dishaped. It gave it that roughen edge to it. The dogs who slept inside were trickier and they happened when the parents were on night shift."

"I mean you and your friends are in a lot of trouble. Why don't you tell us who your inside man is…"

Sherlock stood up. "There's no need. I already know."

* * *

Ralph Frankland was doing paperwork when someone stepped in to the lab. He looked up and swallowed. He never expected to see the person before him.

"You know I privately funded not only this lab to be built but you as an individual scientist."

"Mr Adler…" began

"This isn't yours." Adler stated before picking up a key shaped necklace from the desk and putting it in his waistcoat pocket.

"It's my girlfriend's." he replied.

Adler chuckled. "I highly doubt it. I gave you the funding to start your own project here under the condition you worked for Baskerville but it would seem that you have been working elsewhere. I was glad I came here to check on the mutant dogs of Baskerville. Interesting things began to develop."

"Interesting things?"

"Yes. Like you helping a group of teenagers…."

"How?"

"I listen in on detectives. It's the only way I find out much or either that I hacked the numerous amount of emails that you sent to Organic Interchem. She didn't notice me though and you really ought to think of better passwords."

"She?" Ralph asked.

"Sherlockina Holmes. I noticed though scratches, and bruising on her face, and neck."

Ralph swallowed.

* * *

"What are waiting on?" Sherlock asked Lestrade.

"I don't have jurisdiction to just go and arrest him!" Lestrade replied.

Sherlock sighed. "Another law thing?" she asked, bitterly. "That man should also be taken for theft. He stole my necklace! And he hit me."

"Everyone hits you." Lestrade replied.

"John! John!"

"He's talking with Henrietta Knight about what happened. Look why don't you go and rest and I'll deal with Ralph Frankland"

"Henry!" Sherlock corrected him, before storming out of the pub.

When Sherlock found John and Henry they were at the forest and John was showing her where they found the dogs. "I'm so happy you found Barney." Henry said, before hugging Sherlock. "John was telling me about the necklace. I'm sorry."

"It doesn't matter." Sherlock lied. "I came to apologise to you for the way I spoke to you."

"It doesn't matter." Henry replied, mirroring Sherlock's tone. "I was wrong."

"Doesn't mean I should have been horrible to you."

John smiled.

"It really doesn't matter. Besides, Barney is okay. I can keep him and mum says since I was such a help to you that I can keep him in the house. I wouldn't have been able to do that if he was a mutant."

Sherlock let Henry hug her one last time, before the teen walked over and hugged John.

* * *

"Apparently he had a black eye when they arrested him." John explained to Sherlock as she stepped in to Baker Street.

"Really? Still couldn't find my necklace."

"He's probably sold it. I can't see you affording it though to buy it."

"Probably not!" Sherlock replied. "Goodnight, John."

She stormed upstairs and in to her room.

* * *

_"Don't wake up. I'm just returning something where it belongs. Goodnight, Miss Holmes."_

Sherlock woke up abruptly. "Adler." she uttered. The window was open, causing the curtains to sway. She took a deep breath and then felt her neck. Her necklace was there.

She looked around. "Still haven't brought back my phone, yet!" she remarked before letting her head hit the pillow.

* * *

A/N Not going to John's blog entry for this, because this is one of the one's he doesn't want to share. Well in my version anyway. :D And don't panic Adler fans that wasn't his return. He'll come back again.


	34. To Owe A Fall Part 1

John's POV

I woke up one, very cold morning in winter, to hear Sherlock playing the violin. Despite it waking me up too bloody early I was pleased to hear the instrument's melody, that was being played. I hadn't heard her play for a long, while. Perhaps she was finally getting over the trauma she'd been faced with, with Adler and the laptop that had happened months ago.

I went downstairs and saw her standing with the violin resting under her chin, and her holding the bow in the other. She turned around and all of a sudden what seemed to be quite a pensive look, turned into a smile.

"Good morning, John." she greeted me. She seemed happy. I noticed that she was wearing her necklace. I thought she'd lost it, but it turned up two days later. But yet, I was still not aware of its value or even how she got it back.

"Hungry?" I asked her.

"Yes." she replied. "I have just completed a case. You miss an awful lot when you're in bed with a hangover, John!"

I smiled. It was true. I slept all day yesterday. My friends in Afghanistan had come over for a while and it would have been rude of me to turn them down. They were one of the few friends I had.

I turned to the kitchen and made my way over. As I made tea, Sherlock began playing her violin again. The solving of a case must have been the reason for her cheerful mood. Although I was quite saddened that I wasn't there. I always enjoying writing the cases up that we do. I don't think I'd ever put up the Baskerville one though. The last thing Sherlock's enemies and Donovan and Anderson needed to know was how vulnerable she could be. I didn't want her being hurt because of it.

"So, how are you feeling?" I asked her. I always asked her that. She may not tell me the truth, every time I do but I always wanted her to know that I cared and that I was there for her.

"Quite well." she replied, before putting her violin away.

"That's good." I replied. I finished making the tea and gave her, her cup. She sat down on her arm chair and began to sip it. Suddenly she was pensive again.

However before I could question what was bothering her, my phone rang. Naturally I answered it. "Hello?" I greeted the caller.

"Dr Watson, could you tell Sherlock that she is needed." It was Mycroft talking. I could tell with the arrogant way in which he addressed me.

"Aren't you going to send someone in for her?"

"I have no doubt she'll come of her own accord this time." he replied. Sherlock was turning around glaring at me, questioning what was going on.

"Why is that?" I asked.

"Because…she's got herself a fan who is targeting her."

"A fan?" I asked. Sherlock's eyes widened. Why couldn't she just buy another bloody phone? I hated being her messenger.

"Yes. James Moriarty." he replied, before ending the call. I remembered that name.

_"Yes, you do. What are you so happy about?"_

_"Moriarty."_

_"What's Moriarty?"_

_"I've absolutely no idea."_

I put my phone in my pocket and turned to Sherlock. She was already standing up and putting her coat on. "Moriarty…"I began.

"I could hear Mycroft on the other end of the phone. Let's go find out who he is."

I went upstairs and put my jacket on. I couldn't help but worry. The name Moriarty itself was frightening me. He must have been highly powerful if he could break in to the Tower of London and be a concern to Mycroft Holmes. I wonder if I commented on how this James Moriarty was a man, if Sherlock would fall up on it. Nah. She wouldn't. Not anymore. I think she learned her lesson.

"John!" shouted Sherlock. "Are you coming?!"

She was never patient. I don't blame her though. This man was probably out to kill her. Oh god let's not think about that, John. Let's not think about that at all. I worried about Sherlock as much as I worried about my own sister, Harry. Something just seemed different though. I couldn't quite shake the feeling that, this was going to be more dangerous than usual.

Sherlock was staring out of the cab window. When we got to Mycroft's office I had to say her name to get her to leave. It was as if she'd disappeared in to her mind palace.

"Sherlock." I uttered, tapping her shoulder. She turned her head and then got out of the cab, after paying the taxi driver.

When we reached Mycroft's office, she barged straight it. "Who is he?" she asked.

"He introduced himself as The Consulting Criminal." Mycroft replied to her. She put her hands, in her usual pyramid shape and sat down.

"What does he want?" she asked as Mycroft handed her a file.

"All we've gathered is that you're of interest to him. He's written your name over his cell in Pentoville Prison." Mycroft explained, as she read through the file.

I frowned. Why would he do that? Why was Sherlock of interest? Criminals never sought Sherlock out. They would probably be more likely to run from her. I mean she was one of the best, detective's out there. And as her friend; I would go as far as to say she **was **the best.

"Perhaps you should talk to him. See what's happening. It would help me, Sherlockina." Mycroft said to her, sincerely.

It was the first time the two had spoken eye to eye since the Adler business where he had given her quite a rollicking and I doubt he'd phoned her at all, due to the fact she didn't have that blasted mobile of hers. Of all the things Adler had to take; and I knew very well she wasn't going to be getting it back.

Then something Sherlock said to me about mobile's played in my mind. _"If she'd left him, he would've kept it. People do, sentiment. But no, he wanted rid of it — he left her."_ Finally it made sense. Adler had a crush on Sherlock, it would seem. Or either that he was doing it to piss her off.

"Fine." she replied. "John, go back to Baker Street."

"Why?" I asked.

"It's likely that he's dangerous and you're not getting caught up in this."

_"Too bloody late, Sherlock. I was caught up in your problems when I shot that taxi driver." _I thought to myself.

"I think that's best." Mycroft agreed. What? Brother Holmes, agreed with his little sister. Since when did that happen?

I stopped for a moment and then sighed. "No. I'm coming."

"Please." Sherlock pleaded. I didn't like the way her voice sounded. Was she frightened as well? How much did she know about Moriarty? She must know something that I don't. Then again she always does.

"Fine." I replied. I got a taxi home and I ended up pacing for an hour and half, roughly. Still no sign of her outside. I ended up sitting on the arm chair and reading one of her books. She finally came back at ten PM. She looked tired. She looked at me, reading and I went to apologise.

"I hope you enjoy it." she said.

The landline rang and Sherlock sighed. "Probably Mycroft for me." she said, before yawning. I got up and answered it for her. She was tired and she rarely showed signs of it.

"Mycroft." I greeted.

"Good guess, John." Mycroft replied. "Tell, Sherlock that she needs to come to my office, as soon as possible."

"Why?" I asked.

"Does there need to be a reason?" Mycroft asked me, his voice condescending.

"Tomorrow morning will have to do." I told him. "She's tired Mycroft."

Sherlock shook her head and went to take the phone off of me but I stepped back away from her. I think the look in my eyes were firm because she sat down.

"No she needs to come now!" Mycroft replied.

"No."

"Yes." he replied, firmly.

"Mycroft. Excuse my language. Fuck off!"

I hung up the phone, and Sherlock snickered. "Get some sleep!" I barked at Sherlock. I didn't mean to but I was concerned and perhaps a little hurt that she left me out of her venture to Pentoville prison.

* * *

In the morning, I found Sherlock making coffee. On the television was a breaking news. Pentoville prison lost all security measures at around half past nine at night. So that was why Mycroft phoned Sherlock. I think it would be nonsensical of me to think that Moriarty was still there. Time to ask Sherlock questions.

"Sherlock." I began.

"Yes?" she replied.

"What happened at Pentoville prison when you went to see him?"

"He asked after you." she replied. "Then he said he was going to burn the heart out of me. I told him that I didn't have one. Not much happened in the way of conversation. Then he went quiet and Mycroft took me out."

"And that lasted until you got here at ten?"

"I was speaking to Mycroft." she replied.

"About what?" I asked.

"I'm not allowed to talk about it." she replied.

I felt a little annoyed with her. She rarely kept me this much in the dark. "Oh so you and Mycroft are all friendly now?!" I snapped.

"I wouldn't say that." she replied. "Coffee?"

"No." I replied.

"Fine. I should go and see Mycroft now. Have a nice day." she replied.

"No!" I shouted. "You're not leaving! Not until you tell me what's going on!"

She turned around and looked at me. She wasn't angry, and she didn't seem sad. But nor did she look happy. She looked sorry. Or at least I think that was what her expression was saying.

"I can't tell you John because I don't know!" she replied. "Please, stop asking me."

She left and I sighed.

* * *

Later on in the day I decided to get some shopping. I decided it would be best if I stopped by a cash machine to get some money to save me using chip and pin, in the shop. I read the message that came up. **"Please wait, John." **

I blinked, wondering how advanced ATMs were getting now. **"Get in the car, Dr Watson." ** was what came up next. It wasn't the ATM. Bloody Mycroft.

I was taking to a place called the Diogenes Club. I looked around and began to ask some of the older gentlemen there, where Mycroft was. That was a bad mistake. I was roughly taken away to a side room where, Mycroft was.

"What was that all about?!" I asked, him.

"Quiet a moment, John." Mycroft replied before turning on a tv and listening. "The Bank of England. It was his final target."

"You've brought me here for a reason!" I reminded him, when he turned off the television.

"Sherlock's going on a plane tonight to Switzerland. Go with her. Keep an eye on her. I've had a microchip inserted into her arm, unknowingly, so that I will always know where she is but I need someone out there who will…keep her out of danger."

"So, now I'm allowed to go?" John asked.

"It would seem that my sister favours you as figure of sibling love; something that I was never able to be."

Why does that not surprise me?

"Sherlock suffered a lot as a young child and all the way through her days in high school. I wasn't surprised when she started the drugs."

"What happened to her?" I asked.

"When she was young. Eight or nine…she came to realise that our father was quite abusive towards our mother. Sometimes with her being too observant she was her own worst enemy. She used to hide away from him, and that made him even more angry and he took it out on mother. One day, Sherlock was at the top of the stairs. She was playing her violin and he pushed her. That was the final straw for me. I was old enough to deal with him. I threatened to press charges unless he left right away. But mother was depressed for a long time after that. She kept mostly to her room or her study and I was working all the time. Sherlock was quite alone."

I could and couldn't believe what Mycroft was telling me. No wonder she hated men so much. No wonder she hated her father so much.

"She was such a caring individual as well. She would always buy mother a present. Never, ever failed. Always got me one as well. But she was sad. She found it difficult to make friends. Depression had a very bad stigma then. Not just on the person it affected but the rest of the family. It didn't bother me but Sherlock was bullied very much and all she wanted was a friend. That was where her skull came in. It couldn't shout abuse at her or call her a freak."

I felt sick at hearing that. I felt angry at Mycroft. I would have dropped everything and dealt with the bastards who were hurting her.

"She stopped talking to me after a while. She blamed me very much. Although she never came out and said it. She got very resentful. I can't say I blame her. I worry about her though. She was upset when mother died. She would do anything she could for mother. Anything. I was at work. I couldn't just drop everything to be by her side all the time. I mean there was a time when were quite close."

"I'm sorry." I told Mycroft.

"And then she found you, John. She's even grown up a little bit. Don't get upset with her because she didn't take you to the prison. She's trying to protect you."

"I know how dangerous it is to be with her." I told him.

"And she appreciates that. Do try and get her to buy a mobile would you? What happened to her last one anyway?"

"I have been trying to get her to buy one!" I told him. "Adler stole it apparently."

"I bet he did." Mycroft replied. "Has she mentioned him yet?"

"No. Every time I question it she replies with 'The Man' and she's very defensive. It's almost as if she hates him."

"Or it could be a salute. The one man that matters. If she went and got a new phone, John. It would mean she was giving up on him. Or you could be right. She could hate him very much. I can't deduce much about her heart. She has the mind of a scientist or a philosopher and yet she elects to be a detective. What do you think, John?"

"I don't know."

"As I said neither do I but when she was young she wanted to be a warrior princess."

"What was her weapon? Her cheekbones?" I asked.

"More likely her violin bow." Mycroft replied.

* * *

I found Sherlock packing in her room. "I'm coming with you! End of!" I told her.

"John…"

"End of! Now how do you know he's in Switzerland?"

"He left behind a painting of the Reichenbach Falls. If you're coming pack a warm coat. It's bloody freezing this time of year."

"Should I pack my ski gear?" I asked her, sarcastically.

"Only if you're skiing down the cliffs to the bottom of the falls and I highly doubt you can ski down a hill." she replied.

"Sherlock…you're my best friend." I told her. "Don't leave me out again."

I saw her swallow. "Meet you downstairs in ten." she replied.

* * *

A/N We're coming to Sherlock's imminent death. Oh dear!


	35. To Owe A Fall Part 2

A/N If it makes you feel any better I cried at my own writing. Big thanks to anyone who has reviewed, alerted etc. Much appreciated.

Once I'd packed some of my stuff I headed outside. Sherlock was out there, and she had her suitcase in one hand in the other, was a package with a wax seal. It looked like she'd opened it.

She grabbed a taxi without even looking at me. I tried my best to make conversation with her on the way to the airport. "That IOU graffiti wasn't there last night." I hoped she would appreciate that I had observed something. And that was the first reaction I had seen out of her.

She turned back and looked at it, and I saw her swallow. Sherlock what's up? "You okay?" I asked her.

"Fine." she replied. "Are you going to stop asking me that every five seconds. It's annoying."

"Fine." I replied.

* * *

When we got to Switzerland we had a long drive to the hotel. It had been snowing. Sherlock had been right it was bloody freezing. I couldn't help but wonder what exactly she was doing now she got here but she was reading a book. Grimm Fairy Tales. "IOU!" she blurted.

"What?" I asked. We were both sitting in the dinner room.

"Nothing." I heard her reply to me. "Now what would you like? I'll pay."

I looked up at her, she was looking at her menu. She rarely ate on a case. She did once. The Baskerville incident with the dogs, but then she'd sort of went back to her normal self and now she was eating once again or getting ready to.

I laughed aloud, suddenly remembering how I'd made her choke on her juice in Devon. I think she'd turned a whiter shade of pale if I remember correctly.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"Nothing." I replied.

"What?!" I heard her repeat.

"Just…remember that time in Devon. I was so surprised that you were eating something that I actually asked you if you were pregnant." I told her just as she was sipping her water. She almost choked on it, laughing.

"Yes. I remember that." she replied. She looked around and then sighed. "How is Sarah?"

I couldn't believe what she'd asked me. I had quit the job a while back when I'd be working with her. She honestly didn't know we'd broken up. Oh how spectacularly ignorant she is about some things.

"Sarah and I broke up a long time ago, Sherlock." I told her.

"Oh. Well..umm…my condolences."

"It's fine and she didn't die…."

"Anyway…" she began. I laughed. She looked at me and forced a smile.

"You order for us both and I'll go and wash my hands." she replied, before standing up and leaving the table.

* * *

After we'd ate I went upstairs to my hotel room – Sherlock was paying for that as well – and tried to get some sleep. I tossed and turned all night. I couldn't sleep. I just couldn't shake the feeling something was wrong.

In the morning I left my room to find Sherlock leaving hers. "Morning, John." she said.

"You okay?" I asked.

"Yes. I'm just going for a walk." she replied.

"I'll come with you! Then we can talk about, Moriarty."

"No I would much rather go on my own, John."

"No. I'll come with you." I replied. Why I was insisting; I had no idea. But something told me I'd be able to keep her safe if went with her.

"OK." she replied hesitantly.

"You're not leaving without a coat." I told her.

"I won't need it. Trust me on that one, John." she replied, twirling her necklace.

Sherlock choose the path to the falls. She wanted a photo, apparently. "You're a doctor, aren't you!?" someone called out to me. I turned around and saw a young man breathless. "You're a doctor. That woman put you down as Dr Watson on your…reservation."

"Yeah."

"My brother. In room 221…" he began.

"_221. How ironic._"_ I thought. _

"Well my brother…please just come."

"It sounds like you better go and check this out, Dr Watson!" Sherlock said, cheerfully. "I'll wait at the top."

I followed the boy to the room and then he opened it. The room was empty basically, except for a laptop on a coffee table.

"Where's…"I began.

"Miss Holmes asked me to come and tell you that while you stopped to go to the bathroom. Paid me a hundred pounds. Told me there was something on that laptop for you."

I walked over to the laptop confused. A video was open, and paused. I pressed play and the door closed. It was a webcam footage from Sherlock.

"John. If you're watching this then I'm dead or at least on the way to it. Don't come after me. Please don't make it harder than it already is."

I saw a tear run down her cheek. I felt my stomach churn. I couldn't help but wonder if I'd been trapped in some nightmare. "Last night I got a message from Jim Moriarty asking me to meet him at the top of the falls. I have reason to believe he's going to kill me and if I don't let him he'll probably kill you and that's the last thing that I want."

"No. No. No." I uttered.

"John. There's a monitor under the coffee table. It's my pulse. Mycroft thought he'd managed to pull the wool over my eyes and put a monitoring chip in to me. I let him. I found out how to get in to it. No doubt, Moriarty has too. So there's no point in faking my death."

I picked the monitor up and ran out of the hotel room. I felt sick. I had to stop her. I had to. It was all I could think about.

I kept running someone bumped into me. I fell on the ground and landed on my back. I think I had blacked out in that moment. I must have 'winded' myself. At first I could not remember what happened but then I did. I looked at the monitor but there was no pulse showing at all. "Shit! No! No! Sherlock!"

I began to run until I got to the top. "Sherlock. Sherlock."

* * *

Two days passed. They found, Moriarty's body but they didn't find hers. They think hers had made it further down. Finally I decided to watch the video.

"John. If you're watching this then I'm dead or at least on the way to it. Don't come after me. Please don't make it harder than it already is." The tear running down her cheek still made me feel sick. She looked so vulnerable. "Last night I got a message from Jim Moriarty asking me to meet him at the top of the falls. I have reason to believe he's going to kill me and if I don't let him he'll probably kill you and that's the last thing that I want."

_"God Sherlock. Why?"_ I took a deep breath and fought back my own tears.

"John. There's a monitor under the coffee table. It's my pulse. Mycroft thought he'd managed to pull the wool over my eyes and put a monitoring chip in to me. I let him. I found out how to get in to it. No doubt, Moriarty has too. So there's no point in faking my death."

I took a deep breath again. "I want you to know, John that if it wasn't for you I would have been dead a long, long time ago. I always thought of you as my elder brother and I think you already know that. Whether or not you thought of me as sister…"

"I did!" I told her. "Now just stop this!"

She had paused for a moment and more tears ran down her cheeks. They looked so foreign. "You cared about me! And I want you to know that meant so so much." she said, crying. It was so difficult watching her like that.

"You were the only one who never saw me as anything but a freak and one of the very few who realised that I was brilliant. Sometimes though…being a genius is so difficult because there is some things that you fail to realise. And that is that you're not invincible and you're…"

She wiped her tears away. "That you're only human. Even I forgot that fact. I forgot it a long time ago and then I met you and you reminded me. Many people have commented on how sad my eyes look and how I suddenly become happy when you're around. It's not because I'm trying to pretend that I'm happy. I am happy because you're my best friend. And we had the best of times. All be it, it was often dangerous but they were still good. Still good. I will never find a friend like you; in hell or heaven. I don't think either one would accept me. That's if I'm religious."

She laughed. I wish she hadn't. It made it worse. It made it so much worse.

"And sometimes the thing about being a genius is that you don't realise that they are people who are a genius as well. Not just Moriarty. Not just Mycroft…"

She froze for a moment and twirled her necklace. Oh that damn necklace. That stayed with her. I know she left her beloved coat and scarf in her room.

"Anyway…tell Mycroft that I'm sorry. I don't blame him at all! He'll understand. I don't blame him. Tell Mycroft that I…am so sorry and if I had a chance to make it up to him that I would. You may have been a good brother to me but he's still my brother too…and I resented him for a while for things that were out of his control…Thank you, Mycroft."

Tears were escaping my own eye ducts now. "John, please tell Mrs Hudson and Lestrade, and Mason that I am very grateful for everything that they've done for me. And if… a day should come when you have kids. Don't name them after me."

I laughed. It was just like her to make a joke like that; that was so serious and so unserious at same time, at such a horrible time.

I felt someone's hand on my shoulder suddenly. "John…"

I looked up to see Mycroft.

"Mycroft?"

"I heard what she said."

"I didn't hear you come in."

Mycroft turned away for a moment and I think heard him take in a deep breath. "I'll make arrangement for a wake at my country home. If you would like to come…"

"Of course I wouldn't fucking like to come! I would rather be going home right now arguing with her."

Mycroft turned around. "If you are coming then…"

"I'm sorry." I told him.

"She was my sister as well, John."

And with that he left.

I remember what I said in the end of my eulogy. _"Sherlock Holmes never ever asked to be labelled a hero. She was labelled a freak and non-human and that…that wasn't her. No one knew her enough. Sherlock was the most bravest person I ever knew and the most human of them all. And she performed miracles. Well just one last miracle, Sherlock. If you can hear me! Stop this…Just stop this! Just don't be dead!"_

I didn't want her to be dead, but a month and a half past and it was Christmas. I was alone in Baker Street. She had nowhere to be if she wasn't dead and the saddest most heart breaking thing was, that she died because she wanted to save my life. Sherlock Holmes was a true hero. And she **was** my little sister.

* * *

A/N I will continue this on Christmas Day! :D Promise! Takes place just after these events! :)


	36. Life After Death Part 1

A/N The dreams that Sherlock is having are also flashbacks.

* * *

"_I hacked into your brother's microchip monitoring system. If that doesn't flat line when you jump then my man, Sebastian Moran will just have to kill Johnny boy. Now we don't want that happening do we? I have been waiting on standby for this day and to be finally The Man who beats Sherlockina Holmes."_

_"That's a title that will never belong to you!" Sherlock sneered._

_"You know I thought we were alike at some point but you know what, Sherlockina? You're on the side of the angels you're boring."_

_Sherlock grabbed Moriarty and hung him over the edge. "Woah there...it won't matter if you kill me or not you'll still have to jump and drown. No way will you survive. You would need to be on hell of a swimmer and before that Johnny boy would have to be one hell of a skier to save you if you were relying on him!"_

_"You would die just to kill me? How senseless of you! I may be on the side of the angels but don't think that for second that makes me one of them."_

_"What does that make you, then?"_

_She swallowed and pulled, Moriarty back up around. "You know! I am going to die either way." she began as she walked back to the edge. "Might as well...might as well rid the world of you!"_

_She threw herself off dragging Moriarty with her. She reached underneath the water, the current dragging her along and under and under. She couldn't breathe and she couldn't fight the strength of the water. Suddenly everything went red and then nothing._

* * *

She was half awake, when she stopped dreaming. She could hear voices, but they sounded as though they were very distant. She heard her name. "Sherlockina...you're okay." someone soothed. There voice was gentle and she couldn't make out completely who it was. It was so familiar and despite the lingering feeling of mistrust in the back of mind, she felt safe. Everything was blurry, or black. It was all a haze. Slowly she drifted back off to sleep.

* * *

_"You do realise that he's dangerous don't you! He's going to stop at nothing until he kills you and that will include going after, John." Mycroft explained stepping in front of Sherlock. It made her feel like Mycroft was stopping her from going outside in the garden when she was a child._

_"I know. I know." Sherlock replied. She sounded desperate._

_"I want to know where you're planning on chasing him to! Tell me, Sherlockina!" Mycroft, begged. Sherlock flinched. Suddenly a realisation that he cared sunk in._

_"The painting he left behind in his prison cell was a painting of the Reichenbach Falls in Switzerland." she replied. At that moment. It was all she knew. _

_"Was that along with his IOU graffiti?" Mycroft asked._

_"Whatever it is; I'll deal with him and I promise not one person will be hurt."_

_She stormed out past him, leaving him. It was the last time Mycroft Holmes saw his sister alive._

* * *

Sherlock woke up; fully. Her vision was clear and she could see around her. She rubbed the back of her neck and found that her necklace was around it, as usual. Just like when she'd jumped. Her arm felt itchy and she realised it was bandaged. It was the arm where Mycroft put the micro-chip. She stood up and looked out of the window.

"Why am I still alive?" she asked aloud.

"How do you know you're still alive? You could be in heaven. After all..."

She turned around at the sound of who had spoken. She looked at him. He stood in his sharp three piece suit, his tie a little loosely done, his eyes frightened her, just like they had done before when they had met, and he was grinning. She swallowed. He put his hands, in his trouser pockets, still glancing at her.

They looked at each for quite a few moments before the silence was broken by him speaking. "I was going to make, a joke." he said. "But you know what I don't think I should anymore."

"Maybe not." Sherlock replied.

"Yeah. I saved you. You're welcome, Miss Holmes."

"Who said I was thanking you?" she asked, him.

He walked over, and put a hand on her cheek. "Maybe not." He let his hand drop to his side. "You died you know."

"You..."

"I brought you back from the dead basically. I restarted your heart."

"Why?" she asked.

It was his turn to swallow. "I owed you one. Clothes are in the wardrobe there, for you. Come down and have breakfast."

He fixed his tie and then sauntered out of her room, which she was just noticing to be very spaceous. She sighed and then opened up a door, thinking it would lead to a wadrobe. It led to a large bathroom. "Is everything in this place, luxurious. John would have a fit if this was a hotel..."

She swallowed at thinking about John and a tear ran down her cheek. "I'm sorry." she said to herself. "I'm so sorry."

* * *

A/N OK. Just a little prolouge to tease you and make you wonder.


	37. Life After Death Part 2

Sherlockina eventually found the wardrobe, It was the size of her bedroom in Baker Street multiplied by three. Maybe even four. You could walk in and every drawer and cupboard was filled with some item of clothing. Most of them were bespoke. Which, she found out when she tried them on. How her rescuer, knew her sizes was quite shocking and yet somehow remarkable.

Then she found a dressing gown so similar to her blue one that she'd gotten from Harrods. She put it on over her dried up, clothes that she'd been wearing for a week as she lay ill in bed from the fall. It fitted well. Then she took it off and put it back. _"Well I think I appreciate that one the most, Mr Adler."_ she thought to herself, before taking off her necklace and placing it on a shelf.

She took the bandage off her arm. There was a small cut. She blinked, before grabbing a pair of pyjamas and the dressing gown, which was followed by her going to the bathroom; locking the door; walking past the free standing bath and all the way over to the shower.

She made sure there was a towel around for her to use, before she decided to turn on the water.

When she got out, she brushed her hair and then tied it up. She didn't normally tie it up but it was soaking wet and she didn't know where she could get a hair-drier. Besides she was going to have to think of ways to change her usual look to blend in with being dead.

She went out the door that Adler had left, which led to a long L-shaped hallway. She followed it until she found a door, and then she left out of it. Then she came to a sort of landing. If she went left and followed to the end and turned right she would reach a stair case and if she turned right it went on as well. Where was she meant to be meeting Adler?

"He's having breakfast on his balcony this morning." a voice said, a female voice. She turned around to see, Agata. The thirteen year old pointed across the way to the other landing. "I would probably, put something warmer on. You almost died AGAIN of hypothermia."

"Agata. How are you?" Sherlockina asked her.

Agata nodded in reply, before skipping past Sherlock and down the stairs, before going right down to the ground floor. Sherlock went down the same stairs as Agata, and then up the ones leading to the next landing.

Sherlock opened up a door and followed the hallway to a room door. She opened it to find a room similar to hers. She could imagine Adler having his own closet filled with his sharp suits.

The curtains blew a little in the wind and she went outside on to the balcony to see the massive grounds. Adler sat at a table drinking coffee. "It's winter and you dine outside."

"And you are wearing only your pyjamas and dressing gown." Adler replied. "So if we're going to do weather stereotyping for our decisions lets still remain by the phrase people in glass houses shouldn't throw stones."

"What were you doing, saving me?" she asked him. "I don't understand how you could have just turned up."

"I was at the hotel you were staying at. I often make a stop there in the winter and have a ski down to the bottom of the falls."

"Isn't that dangerous?" Sherlock asked, leaning against the balcony ledge. From the corner of her eye she could see several people working in the garden.

"Don't worry they won't ruin your cover. They have no idea who you are." Adler assured her, when he saw her worried look. "Come on and sit down we'll talk."

She sat down and he poured a cup of coffee. She held it in her hands, and looked around. "You were saying?" Adler asked.

"Wasn't that dangerous?"

"Well I'm a dangerous man." he replied.

"I've noticed. Was it two or three times that you rendered me unconscious?"

"We never went to dinner, yet."

Sherlock smiled and looked at him, fighting every urge to laugh. "You know that's funny we're meant to be talking seriously and here you are picking up right where you left off…Ralph Frankland…"

"Ah yes. Ralph Frankland."

"It was you that gave him the black eye, wasn't it?" Sherlock asked. Adler straightened his tie again and then took another sip off coffee. He never replied, and instead he went to reading his newspaper. "How else did you get my necklace back?"

"Your hair smells nice." Adler complimented. "Oh that reminds me I've not gotten your perfume again….We were on topic somewhere about the hotel weren't we?"

"I asked you what you were doing there. You said skiing and I said it was dangerous and you said that you were a dangerous man." Sherlock replied very quickly.

"I saw you. You were out for a walk very late at night and you had been crying. So naturally I checked on your credit cards, tried to find out what you were up to in Switzerland…Something must have been up to upset you so badly"

"Naturally?" Sherlock questioned with a raised eyebrow. He grinned and shook his head. "So spying on me is a natural occurrence for you."

"I like to know what you get up to."

"Really?" Sherlock asked, leaning back in her chair. "Really? I didn't think you'd have time what with your very busy life in New Jersey."

"Was that sarcasm?" he asked.

"Maybe."

"So I found out that apart from the room you were staying in, and the one John was; you had booked another room and after you'd made your video I watched it. I hacked into the monitor and watched it. I waited for you at the bottom of the falls. IOU. You worked it out. So did I!"

"So you did all that because you owed me one?"

"You helped me save my sister. I owe you everything, Miss Holmes. I also got rid of that microchip in your hand. It'll heal up. A bit of an unorthodox method but…sorry."

She stood up and nodded. "Right. Well I'll be out of your way now."

"Stay you've not had breakfast. We've so much to disagree on. I can make points, you can say I'm wrong and then I can prove to you I'm right."

"Or how about I go and get out…and by the way. How did you know all of my measurements?"

"I sized you up the moment we met." he replied, with a grin. "So you know were' still in Switzerland."

He was mocking her and she didn't like it one bit and at the same time there was something quite enjoyable about it.

"You should stay. I'll get someone to bring up breakfast. We can talk more." he said. "Or you can sit and be a functional mute. Either will do. You should dry your hair. I don't want you getting ill. Again. There we are. More proof that the genius before me is an idiot. Oh and by the way; I'm looking after you from now on."

"Who says?"

"Someone who is basically God."

"Yourself?"

"You think I'm god? I'm touched." he replied. "I'm glad we've got something settled darling."

"Don't call me darling." she snarled in reply as he approached her.

"You're going to have to think of a new identity, then. I can't call you Sherlockina."

"Sherlock." she corrected.

"You're an idiot."

"You're a pain."

"I'm hurt. We've been living together not even an hour at the most and already we're saying such hurtful things?!"

His phone rang and he answered it. "Adler…I can't talk right now…It's nothing. Just a little problem that I will have no trouble in dealing with…"

Sherlock shot him a look and he smiled. "Are we still on for golf?...Sure. Bye."

"Who was that?" Sherlock asked.

"A friend."

"I take it this friend of yours is more a business friend. You announced yourself as Adler. Why not Irenaeus?"

"You know what…you're incomplete right now." he said with a thoughtful look on his face. "Ah…I know exactly what you're missing!"

"Oh yeah my perfume…"

"Not that but I will get that for you. No. I was thinking more along the lines of…I'll surprise you…I'm away to go out for a while. Play nice with Agata."

"Agata is far more mature than you!" Sherlock replied.

"Didn't I tell you that people in glass houses should never throw stones!?" he replied. "I want you dressed properly by the time I get back."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not going to put up with you being a child!" he replied.

Sherlock went to reply but couldn't. "Damn you!"

Not only did he leave her standing there feeling frustrated, and somewhat foolish but she felt sad because suddenly now that she was alone, thoughts of her sadness came rushing back to her and once again a tear ran down her cheek. _"We'll have to work on this!"_ her brain so to her heart.

* * *

A/N I know I said that I would update at Christmas. I will but I will update up until then too. I'm such a troll. Anyway, I think I am writing more of this because my other stories are just not writing out the way I like them. IE. I keep deleting what's on paper. Ah-well. I'm working on it guys. I'm working on it.

Now, this is for those people who don't like, Sherlene or in this case Irlock….don't read any further because chances are you're not going to be happy with the storyline. This is my ship. I'm not saying that to be mean. I've just had bad experiences with Johnlock shippers.

A BIG THANK YOU TO EVERYONE! REALLY BIG THANK YOU ! :D


	38. Life After Death Part 3

Sherlock spent the rest of the day looking through the house. She found Agata in the library as she read one of her books. "Shouldn't you be at school?" Sherlock asked her.

"Yes; but I kind of got suspended. It's a long story but I got into a fight with someone."

Sherlock nodded and picked up a book from the shelf on mathematics. "That's my brothers. He's obsessed with things like that. Big complex mathematical puzzles."

Sherlock looked over to the door and swallowed. "Yeah; I heard that was what he specialised in. That and computer…"

"He specialises in everything. Don't kid yourself." Agata replied, with a laugh. "And he used those skills to make himself money and then he uses that money to invest in projects which got him more money which went in to more investments that went into more money. He takes scientists with health projects for cures for diseases and everything."

"Like at Baskerville?"

"Oh yeah. There was this one guy? Ralph Frankland I think. Came to one of my brother's smaller businesses and naturally my brother was intrigued by it so he visited him himself. I don't know what happened but my brother's no longer investing in his project."

"Shame." Sherlock replied, before walking to the door.

"Don't go. Stay here." Agata pleaded. "Have you seen the indoor swimming pool, yet? Or the indoor gym? Or how about the indoor tennis court? Or the outer door ones? I can show you."

"I've seen enough of the house. I don't want to go and see a swimming pool." Sherlock replied. The thought of being surrounded in that level of water again made her feel sick. She rarely swam anyway and she never went to her high school swimming sessions. Something would always have come up to stop her going. That was always deliberate.

"I like the blouse you're wearing. It suits your eyes. All you need is some eye shadow."

Sherlock smiled in reply. She had no energy to speak – especially someone as energetic and determined as Agata. "That way no one will know you've been crying, except me and you."

Sherlock shot her head up. "I've…"

"I would be sad to if I had to live so far away from my brother, and he thought me dead. My brother told me how close you were to Dr Watson. I'm sorry."

"You have no need to apologise. It's out of everyone's hands now."

She walked out of the library and headed through the corridor, hugging herself with her arms. She hated feeling so fragile. This is what happened every time she cared, her depression would return and then she couldn't function. _"I wished to God I had died." she thought. _

**_Flashback_**

_A seventeen year old Sherlock brought home an ornament she had bought for her mother. It had a floral pattern. When she'd given it to her mother, her mother put it back in its paper. "Shouldn't you be keeping your money for you drugs, rather than wasting your money on buying things that'll only get broken."_

_She left the room with a heavy heart and went downstairs to smoke a cigarette. When Mycroft came in he scolded her. "Again? I thought you were going to stop!" _

_"You don't get it." Sherlock replied. "You will never understand me. So don't even try."_

**End of flashback**

She was too busy thinking on the past, that she didn't seen Irenaeus and she bumped in to him. He steadied her. "I'm sorry." Sherlock said, firmly before storming past him. Irenaeus didn't get a chance to speak or ask if she was alright.

He stood still for a moment, and then followed her. He grabbed her hand and turned her to face him. "What's wrong? I mean…really…what's wrong?" he asked her. He moved his hands to her shoulders. She stood still and made sure her gaze was focused on the wall, and not on him.

She turned away and walked on.

"I'm trying to help!" he told her.

"If you want to help. Kill me." she replied.

* * *

***flashback***

_She sat in her room with her knees hugging her chest. She was crying. She needed someone to hold her and sooth her. She was eighteen. She'd never had that since she was eight. She wasn't going to get it at that age either. She rocked herself as she tried to ignore the syringe in front of her. The more she used drugs the more horrible it was to quit; the more dependent she became. Then again she would rather be dependent on narcotics than people._

_She rolled her sleeve up and then the door burst open. "Enough!" Mycroft told her. _

***end of flashback* **

She buried her face in her pillow in her room and began to cry.

* * *

In the middle of the night, Sherlock decided to go a walk. She climbed over the balcony - in her pyjamas and dressing gown – and down a drainpipe. As she walked she came across the outdoor tennis court. What was it with Adler and sport? Or just anything with a game? She grabbed a racket and a ball and began hitting it off of the wall.

"You've a good swing." she heard a voice comment.

"You've a persistent habit of creeping up in the middle of the night."

He chuckled. "Sherlockina…"

"You know I've noticed there's a pinhole sized mark on my chest. It wasn't there before…"

"Probably from the portable device I had to restart your heart. It's in testing at the moment. Then I'll see whether or not I'll fund more to be made to go out on to market."

Are you like one of those dragons basically?"

"You watch Dragons Den?" asked Irenaeus.

"John did. I listened in now and then." she replied.

"Are you hungry? You've not eaten from what I've been told. The kitchen staff have had no requests."

She handed him the ball and the racket. "Why would I eat if I am not hungry? I feel sick."

"Want a game? Best of three?"

"You'd only win. You win at everything so you don't feel emasculated."

"There will never be danger of me feeling emasculated." he replied with a grin. "Come on."

"He's…he cares about me. He did care about me and he's so hurt and so sad for nothing. I'm still alive and I can't go back because he'll get killed."

"Then get rid of the people stopping you getting back. Wait a while. Wait until they think that their biggest threat is gone, and then you take them down."

He threw the racket and ball down and then he walked up so close to her that when he turned her around they were almost kissing. "They are obviously not worth allowing to continue if they upset, Miss Holmes."

Her brain was telling her to move away but something else was keeping her fixed where she was, feeling safe in his close proximity. He put her hand on his cheek. "Don't think you're alone though. Don't think for one second that you are. You've got me."

His phone rang suddenly. "Excuse me." he uttered.

_"People phone him in the middle of the night? Doesn't he ever sleep?!" Sherlock thought. _

He walked away from Sherlock as he answered the phone call and he came back a few moments later. "Come inside. It's cold."

"So, are you going to send those devices off to market?" Sherlock asked as they went to walk inside.

"No."

"Why not?" Sherlock asked as they walked in the front door.

"Because it didn't work when I needed it to."

"When was that?"

"When do you think?" he replied, his eyes widening as they walked upstairs.

"But then how…" began Sherlock.

"Goodnight, Miss Holmes. We're leaving in the morning."

"What?!"

"Yes. You can't stay here. I want this place to come back to." he replied.

* * *

I would like to thank all of you for sticking by this story. It's really appreciated! :D


	39. Life After Death Part 4

In the morning Sherlock put on a suit and tied her hair up. She took Agata's advice and put on eye shadow. She had to look as different as possible. "Are you alright?" Agata asked. Sherlock turned around too find her and nodded. Agata smiled.

"Is there a suitcase or something I could use?"

"Oh don't pack anything." Agata told her.

"Why not?" Sherlock asked as she hid her necklace inside her blouse. That would have been a give-away to her identity as well.

"Because there will be another closet with clothes over in New Jersey."

"Where exactly do you stay in New Jersey?" Sherlock asked. She was completely unsurprised by what Agata had said.

"West New York." Agata replied

A puzzled look appeared on the detective's face suddenly. "Would that not mean that you were in the state of New York?"

Agata laughed. "No. But we are close to the Hudson River and Manhattan. Where do you think my brother's offices are and where I do my shopping? He gets a helicopter there every morning for work. I have to get a water taxi on weekends. He is adamant that because I don't sit still in cars it would be awfully stupid of him to put me in a helicopter."

Sherlock nodded as Agata began to ramble suddenly about all her favourite places to shop in Manhattan. "...And we should go there together and we can go ice skating and it'll be so much fun! My friends will love you!"

"Why would they?" Sherlock asked, seriously.

"Because for one you're..." began Agata.

They heard a chuckle. "Are talking about when she is speaking or when she is silent and is it charmingly speaking or charmingly silent?"

"What are you doing here?" Agata asked, turning around to see her brother.

"My house." he replied.

"Yeah but you're meant to knock before you come in! At least that's what you always tell me!" Agata replied, rolling her eyes.

"That's because you never do it and I am always having important conversations on the phone."

"Oh yes silly me..." Agata began before mocking him. "Are we on for golf today?...We should meet up and talk about it over a beer or something...Let's get baseball tickets..."

She was about to continue but Sherlock began laughing so hard that her stomach hurt. "I am sorry." she apologised.

"Don't be sorry." Irenaeus said, smiling at her. "It's difficult not to laugh at my sister making a fool of herself."

Agata drew him a look. "What are you doing here? And if you answer your house…"

"I came here to obviously speak to Sherlockina."

"Her name is Sherlock." Agata replied. Sherlock snickered. It was hard not to with all Agata's energy and facial expressions she was making to reply. Then her face fell. She was laughing, while John was grieving.

"Agata go and check on the weather for me." Irenaeus, ordered when he saw the look on Sherlock's face drastically change.

"Sure." Agata, replied. "It's not as if I wasn't in the middle of my own conversation with her. You have to have everything and everyone to yourself. Ever considered she likes me better?"

She continued to talk to herself as she left Sherlock's room. "She's…brilliant isn't she?"

"Yes. She's sweet. Funny."

"Clinically insane I think. Sadly they won't diagnose her. I told them I was willing to pay all the treatment."

"She looks so much more grown up than the last time I saw her. She's grown taller and she looks more teenager like and that's only within; I don't know…"

"Nine months and a bit?" he finished. "Yes. She looked so childlike for a while but she has changed a little. Still isn't very mature but then age makes no guarantee of that. Look at you."

"True." Sherlock agreed.

"You can't…can't keep feeling…I know it's easy for me to say it but…you need to move on a little because in time John's going to as well…In a way you're the one that's worse off. The one who is going to find it the hardest to move on because you know you're alive and can't go and see him and that's the worst part of it. I thought that you were sad when I first met you but it's nothing compared to how you are now. You're depressed and just when a smile appears on your face that guilt sets in. It's almost as if your disguise is gone."

"The one I wore everyday so people thought I was less human and more of a freak?"

"I didn't think you were a freak."

"Because you saw right through my armour. Now it's all gone." Sherlock replied with a swallow. She stood up and he put a hand on her shoulder.

She looked at him and swallowed again. "You don't need to keep it on anyway. No one's going to judge you or think any less of you. Especially not me!"

He placed his other hand on her cheek. "I still don't see why you're insisting on helping me." Sherlock stated, quietly as they became kiss-close.

"Because, I owe you one."

"The weather is clear but we should probably leave in about three hours because it's meant to snow here at some point in the afternoon." Agata spoke, as she made her way in to the room. She stopped when she saw her brother and Sherlock and how close they were.

Irenaeus sighed and took both his hands away before putting them in his pockets. "She never knocks." he sighed with a wry smile.

"I am going to go and make an important phone call. Excuse me." he said to both Sherlock and his sister.

"Baseball or golf?"

He never replied, but left the room shaking his head. "Now where were we? Oh yes. All my friends would love you because you're so beautiful and you're so clever and you're really fun. You could come ice-skating with us and get us into the cinemas without ID to see movies."

"I can't skate." Sherlock replied.

"Then you'll need to learn. My brother taught me. Now I'll teach you."

"I'm sure he did." she replied, before undoing her and brushing it out. She decided on a plaite, instead.

"And we can to concerts together. It'll be so much fun!" Agata continued to ramble. Sherlock smiled, sadly.

* * *

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! :D


	40. Life After Death Part 5

Sherlock looked out of the window on the plane. "Can you drive a car, Sherlock?" Agata asked, sitting next to the detective. Sherlock turned around and gave a single nod. "Do you like pancakes? I have got to take you to an ihop if you do!"

"An ihop?" Sherlock questioned, a puzzled looking showing on her face. Irenaeus chuckled from the other side of the jet and shook his head.

"Don't laugh at her; she's not American!" Agata scolded.

"It stands for international house of pancakes. It's one of the most, strangest ways to say diner that sells pancakes."

"So was it you who invested in their making then?" Sherlock retorted. He shot her a look.

"Do you want some ice for that burn, brother dear?" Agata asked.

"No it wasn't me. Besides, Agata is not allowed to go shopping until after Christmas. So I doubt she's going to have time to find an ihop." Irenaeus, spoke. "Not with how busy she's going to be finding herself with middle school and refraining from getting in to fights."

Agata scowled at him. "You're still going on about that? Jee…it happened so long ago!" Agata replied before turning back to Sherlock. "Can you believe that?"

"Agata it happened two weeks ago." Irenaeus replied calmly. She sighed. "And Sherlockina will not have any time either. She'll be working with me. My new associate. I used to have two but one of them left. Haven't had time. The other one is a good friend."

"But…" began Sherlock.

"Don't say you'll have no idea what you're doing. You've never had any idea what you're doing and you've managed to be somewhat okay and you get your own office. Have a nice view of Manhattan."

"Or I could just find a smaller job in Manhattan and get my own small apartment or something cheap and live on my own."

"Why waste that good brain on something small?" he replied.

"I don't know; why do **you?**"

"You think my work is meaningless."

"Yes. Or pointless rather – for a better term."

"Why is that?"

"You do it for money and yet you've plenty already."

"It's not all about the money." he replied.

"Sherlock please don't let him start on his speech!" Agata complained.

Sherlock blinked and looked out of the window.

"I'm bored can I have my phone?" Agata asked, her brother.

"No." he replied.

"Why not?"

"I believe it's called being grounded off of it."

"But I need my phone!" Agata complained.

Sherlock put her hand on Agata's shoulder "It's alright Agata; I did nothing wrong and I still haven't gotten my phone back."

"You'll get it back one day, maybe." he replied. "But as for doing nothing wrong…I think you are seeing the world through rose coloured spectacles."

"I would but I don't wear glasses." Sherlock replied.

"Am I allowed to go Christmas shopping?" Agata asked.

"I'll think about it." Irenaeus replied.

There was silence for a moment.

"Oh come on it's not as if I broke his ribs in or anything. It was just his nose!" Agata exclaimed. Sherlock and Irenaeus exchanged a look and she couldn't quite tell if he was fighting the urge to smile, shake his head or say something. At least Agata was not being stupid like she had been. By the age of thirteen Sherlock was not even bothering to go to school, she was awake for days on end, walking around London, and by the age of fifteen she was using narcotics.

She turned away and looked out of the window again.

* * *

Adler's house in New Jersey was just as luxurious as the one in Switzerland. Agata showed her to a room. "You should have this one. It's got a balcony and the closet is filled with stuff for you."

There was a package lying on her bed. "That's for you by the way." Agata said. Sherlock nodded and Agata left. It was six o'clock in the evening and she was tired. The flight had been tiring.

She opened up the package and found a deerstalker inside. She shook her head and put it on. It used to make feel stupid putting it on but now when she did it made her feel comfortable. It made her feel happy. It made her remember the times that she'd spent on cases and with John.

"I told you that you were missing something." Irenaeus said.

"Once again you were right." Sherlock replied turning around to face him. "You didn't knock."

"My house." he replied.

A tear slide down her cheek and turned away so he wouldn't see it. "Thanks."

He went to speak but decided she need some time on her own. "If you need me…I'll be somewhere."

"Yeah. Good. Thanks. Bye. Fine."

"Wrong order. By the way I'd set your alarm for five." he told her before leaving. She took of the deerstalker and threw it on the bed.

* * *

It was the early hours of the morning and John somehow couldn't get to sleep. Perhaps it was because he was still expecting to hear the sound of Sherlock walking downstairs to the living room, or the sound of the violin, or maybe even running around London chasing after criminals.

He had to get a job. He needed to do something to keep his mind off of Sherlock's death. Just something. Christmas was approaching. He need money for gifts; for Harry, for Mrs Hudson, and maybe even Lestrade.

He sighed and did his best to get back to sleep.

"And this is yet another swimming pool in yet another house of his." Agata sighed. "Shall I take you to see the tennis court? Or would you like to watch a film!? Please see yes and I can sneak in to the cinema room and watch it with you!"

"Umm…" began Sherlock.

"Agata!" Irenaeus called.

"Wait here." Agata replied. When Agata was away, Sherlock looked down at the pool. She could feel herself feel slightly nauseated, and a little dizzy just by looking at it. She turned around, ready to leave.

"Anyone in?" a male voice asked. She saw someone come through the doors that led to the outside swimming pool. The man smiled. He had golf clothing on. "I am looking for Adler."

"He's…Who are you?"

"Neal Burke." he replied, as he walked over to her. He extended his hand. "And you are?"

"Burke. You never told me you were going to stop by. Something up?" she heard Irenaeus say behind her. She was beginning to wonder if most American business men referred to each other by their surnames. She would ask Agata; but not Irenaeus. She couldn't be bothered getting in to an argument with him, while he mocked her.

"I heard you were here. Came to check on you and your sis and make sure you had a good flight."

"As good as it can be with an energetic thirteen year old." Irenaeus replied. "This is…"

He stopped and looked at Sherlock. What was he going to call her? If he could just think of a first name. But the again; she might not like that.

"Harriet." Sherlock finished for him.

"Harriet will be joining us on the top floor tomorrow." Irenaeus explained. Sherlock guessed the top floor was the offices for the associates and Irenaeus were.

"You found a replacement for Kingston?"

"Yeah."

"What do you specialise in Harriet? What's your major?" Burke asked.

"Harriet studied in England. You can tell from her accent."

"Oh that's why it was so strange."

"I have several degrees in sciences." Sherlock explained.

"I figured that Harriet could help us with our aspiring scientists who come in with big cures for all sorts of diseases and she can use a microscope. I asked her to stop by so I could talk to her about tomorrow. She's a friend of the family."

Sherlock nodded and Irenaeus turned to her. "Why don't you go and speak with Agata. You know how fond she is of you."

"Yes." Sherlock agreed before leaving.


	41. Life After Death Part 6

Sherlock stepped in to her closet at three o'clock in the morning after hours of not sleeping. Irenaeus said to her to set her alarm for five am. She was going to make sure she was ready by then. It was time for her to start being a step ahead and if that meant being ready for her new job, before the boss was then it would be a start.

She picked out a suit that looked like the ones that most high up business women wear in the television. She had John to thank for his choice in programmes and movies. She sat on the chair on her balcony, ignoring the cold.

She began drumming her fingers on the fencing of the balcony. She suddenly heard something that sounded like a ball hitting a wall. She looked down and saw someone's shadows on the concrete below. She climbed down and looked around. It was a pitch black.

"Is someone there?" she asked, sharply. _"I don't think Adler's staff come in this early. Do they? How am I supposed to know; I never had people. I had Mrs Hudson and John to make my coffee in the morning." _

"Yeah, but I'm not wanting to talk." the voice replied. Sherlock followed it to find Agata.

"Agata what are you doing out here at this time? It's cold! You should be inside. You've not even got a coat on."

"Like you have a right to scold me." Agata replied before throwing a tennis ball at the wall. "You had breakfast in your pyjamas and dressing gown in Switzerland and now you're out with just a suit jacket on and my brother doesn't get up until five. So we're both up way past our bed time and no we didn't wake up early; because neither of us have slept."

"You're upset about something."

"No shit, Sherlock."

Sherlock blinked. "What's wrong?"

"Irenaeus is driving me crazy!"

"I am not going to ask what he's done to make you so angry and frustrated but I will tell you this, Agata. You're so lucky! Irenaeus would do anything for you. He cares about you so much. My brother…Mycroft…he cared and all but…he never showed it and after weeks of not even seeing him he'd come in and act like he was in charge of me. Irenaeus is there for you all the time when you need it and he's trying to do what's best for you."

"By taking my phone away from me, and not letting me go shopping and not…"

"Agata…"

"All I did was hit some stupid kid in the nose."

"He's just trying to protect you."

"Yeah…picking fights with people is not a good habit to have…" she mimicked him.

"It isn't…and I learned that…I learned that the hard way. So just count your blessings that you have a brother to keep you on the right path. That way you won't end up like me. That's the worst thing that could happen."

"Why?"

"You don't know what I've done."

"What have you done?" Agata asked.

"A lot of stupid things…bad thing; because my brother wasn't there to give me hug when I was upset. So just think yourself lucky is all I'm saying. You're privileged, you're cared for and you have the ability to do almost anything you want if you're not grounded."

Agata laughed at Sherlock's last statement.

"He's always so…perfect all the time. It drives me nuts. He doesn't make mistakes. He always acts so slick." Agata replied. "I mean he's the type of person who could find a girlfriend easily and I ruin it for him all the time. "

"Amazing how brothers and sisters change their tune isn't it?" Sherlock asked. "One moment you are arguing over who is going for the milk and in the end the same person as last time always goes because they are so frustrated at the other person and in the end once they've got it, it doesn't matter because in the morning you both have a unity in complaining about your day ahead as if the argument the previous night never happened. And then there is those times where one moment you are shouting at each other and when someone steps in to back up the sane one, he or she shouts at that person for insulting their sibling."

"You're not talking about you and Mycroft are you?" Agata asked.

"Go inside, Agata and get some sleep. You've school."

"Thanks, Sherlock." Agata replied, handing her the ball. Agata went in through a set of French doors and Sherlock sighed, before beginning to throw the ball at the wall and catching it once it came back to her.

"What you said was…was very smart." she heard Irenaeus' voice say. Sherlock didn't look over to him. "Thank you. You're up early."

"Didn't you hear your sister…technically we're not up early. We've been like this because we've never slept. Want to hear what I've got to say to you? You're lucky that you've got a sister like Agata. Could be worse; you could have me as your sister."

"What bad things did you do?" Adler asked her, catching the ball before it hit the wall.

"Stupid stuff."

"We've all done stupid stuff, Sherlock. Maybe not all of us have went to narcotics but…"

"Of course you know about the drugs."

"Sherlockina when you're in a sort of depressed mood you start hating yourself so much and when you're not depressed you love yourself too much. Could I not get an in-between…then again I accept you the way you are." he changed the subject.

"What? Freak?"

"I wish you'd stop calling yourself that." he replied. "I get it Sherlock. You are feeling out of control. You feel sort of vulnerable and you feel worthless."

"I was meant to die and I couldn't even do that properly?"

He laughed.

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"You're only alive because I…I used CPR…And it was the longest moment of my life I think, since high school when I had to play a chess tournament."

"Nervous?"

"No, they didn't have timers and the people I was playing took forever to make a move."

"You play chess?" Sherlock asked.

"Yes, but before you even ask me for a game. I warn you, Sherlockina Holmes. I'm quick to make my move."

"Thanks for the warning but I'm quite fast too."

"Then why are we always interrupted?" he asked.

"I'm sorry? I don't follow."

He smiled and then kissed her cheek, catching her by surprise. "Go inside and rest on the sofa or something. Just catch a couple of hours. You look…tired."

He looked at her with concern and she swallowed. His eyes were piercing her soul with their kind glancing. She made her way to the doors. "What about you? Don't you sleep?"

"Not tonight." he replied. "I don't know…Have you ever had a thought in the back of your head that something wasn't right and you know that subconsciously you've seen it but you can't…place it because there is something else blocking it?"

"With Hughes…when he didn't mention that you had a sister… he ummm….he said you didn't have any living family members. That's how I figured he was…not very nice."

"No he wasn't very nice. He hurt my sister and he hurt you."

"I don't matter."

"You're wrong with that one." he replied.

"I don't like being around you." she told him, bluntly.

He blinked.

"And at the same time it's brilliant….I'm wrong all the time and yet I find it enthralling. I am glad that you've set your gender back on the right track."

"Me too." he said, sounding unsure.

"If I get too sentimental…kill me."

"I would but I just gave you the kiss of life." he replied.

Sherlock shook her head before going inside leaving Irenaeus smiling.


	42. Life After Death Part 7

"What do I do?" Sherlock asked when Irenaeus lead her in to the building where he worked.

"In simple terms you are head of businesses and those businesses earn you money. You invest in things, you being businesses and you help people with their dreams…"

"I don't follow." Sherlock replied as they stepped in to an elevator.

"You remember in when world war one started, people put money in to textile businesses because they knew how much textiles were going to be needed for military uniforms to be made. They invested in steel, to make weapons."

"Americans were always late to come in to the war and they always took the credit for winning." Sherlock replied.

"If I was alive then, I would have signed up with the Brits. I'm that sort of person."

"You don't like hurting people."

"You've saw me hurt people." Irenaeus replied.

"No. You apprehended them. You never just hit someone out of anger. Always self-defence and I'm sure you'd find a war meaningless. I think wars are meaningless and yet my brother has started many."

"Probably why you think they are meaningless if your brother starts them. Ironically your biological brother started them, and John who you regard as your brother, fought in one those wars."

"He was injured."

"You know what is good to invest in. Kevlar making industry. Tell me why? Now I know you'll know this."

"Kevlar is a polyamide. It's very strong and has replaced steel in bullet proof vest, and you find them in helmets and…"

"Bullet proof vests. We invested in Kevlar and we're profiting out of people's need for safety gear. That's how it works."

"And then you use the money from the investment to invest in other materials and projects that will benefit people and you make more money to repeat the process."

"It's not about money, Harriet. It's about making a difference. It's about taking people's creativity and turning in to something wonderful. Google. Yahoo. Maybe not yahoo. Windows. Macintosh. Facebook. Tumblr. Twitter. All started as small websites, and search engines and look at them now. They made people billions all because of their intelligence. We get more people using that…"

"This is what Agata meant when she said that you had a speech. You're too good to be true."

"I know…I'm just perfect." he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

The doors to the elevator opened. "You thought of a surname yet?"

"Baker." Sherlock replied.

"Baker Street. Might have known."

"I'm getting to sentimental aren't I?"

"No. It's cute though. Trying to keep your roots."

"Cute? I'm a consulting detective who has whipped dead bodies in a mourge. I'm not cute."

"Why did you do that?" Irenaeus asked.

"Bruising and alibi. Long story."

"You're not a detective. Not anymore but you are a scientist. Be a scientist here is what I am saying."

"Right."

"So people come to you with a new drug that's going to solve all the problems of the world. You need to encourage them but at the same time tell them that you don't buy it but use what they have and turn it in to something that we can sell…Oh and once a month we have an open day. They all come to us. When you start off here…we give you one hundred thousand pounds. Use it wisely and turn it in to a million. You could do that by the end of the month. Good luck!"

He opened a door to her office which was surrounded by windows. There were no blinds. "Not much privacy…"

"Don't worry there is a dimmer switch which frosts the glass up. But keep it off. I like to keep my eye on you."

He left her to stand in her office with a blank look on her face.

* * *

By the time lunch time came, Sherlock had had several phone calls from large pharmaceutical companies wanting to see her. Word had gotten around that pharmacy was Sherlock or rather Harriet's main area.

She had never taken so many phone calls before and she had to make appointments with them. "First day and already you're looking so tired. Working you hard are they?" she heard a voice say. She recognised it. It was Burke.

"I didn't get much sleep." she replied. She didn't want anyone thinking it was because she was incapable.

"Irenaeus told me to check on you. He's been called away to his sister's school."

"Agata…is she alright?" Sherlock asked concerned.

"I think she's been fighting again."

"Thanks…"

"No need to thank me. I wouldn't leave you here, struggling."

"I don't struggle." Sherlock replied.

"Good answer. Confident. You'll need it in this business. I think you and I should sit down and have a business meeting one day."

Sherlock just smiled and nodded.

* * *

When Irenaeus came back to work it was the afternoon and Agata was with. He opened Sherlock's office. "Stay with Harriet."

"Harriet?!"

"It's her cover name." Irenaeus whispered.

"Oh."

Agata sat down on one of Sherlock's chairs. "What happened?" Sherlock asked.

"They don't know, actually because most of it is rumour. Irenaeus is a bit pissed off because I got in to another fight with an older kid…well…guy. He's in ninth grade. But this time it wasn't my fault. His brother was the one I punched and he wasn't happy and he pushed me and then he tried to grab me so he could lock me in a locker and I kicked him in the groin."

Sherlock smiled and shook her head. "So he hit me in the stomach and I hit him in the nose. That was when people started yelling out "fight" which is really inconspicuous because that totally doesn't drawn teacher's attention to it. And naturally no one was talking that much and I was automatically accused because of my history and I did tell Irenaeus but I doubt he believed me. Could you go and explain this to him."

"Okay." Sherlock replied. "Are you alright? You aren't hurt too bad are you?"

"No." Agata replied. "I am fine."

"Burke bought me these chocolates for some reason. You have them." Sherlock said before opening her drawer and giving them to Agata. "I'll go and speak to your brother."

"Thanks, Harriet." Agata replied. She looked at the chocolates and frowned in thought.

Sherlock laughed because Agata was now calling her Harriet. "Do I just knock to go in…"

"Just go in. He'll ignore you if you knock."

"Right." Sherlock replied, before leaving her office and walking in to Irenaeus' office.

"Something up?" he asked.

"I spoke to Agata about what happened…He hit her first and she had to…"

"I know. I believe her. I'm annoyed because if she hadn't picked the fight with the younger brother in the first place…this wouldn't have happened."

"That's her learned her lesson now, though."

"How many times were you badly hurt by people before you learned yours?" Irenaeus replied.

"Was that a dig in?" Sherlock asked annoyed.

"I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry."

"Yeah. Right. Okay. I admitted it then that I was wrong okay!? So do you want to stop it?"

"Sometimes I think that you are an easy person to talk to you and then you jump down my throat."

"Oh…nah that's not what I think. You made a snarky comment because you're in a grumpy mood. Well don't take it out on me because I'm the Queen of grumpy moods."

"So I've noticed." Irenaeus replied. "And why is it when Agata and I have a problem…you take her side?"

"I'm not taking sides! I'm not a side taker. I'm just trying to help because I saw an injustice with Agata and….And I'm trying to make sure that she's okay. Because sometimes that's all it takes is one person who'll stand up and say that person was wrongly treated to fix something. I should know."

Irenaeus sighed and Sherlock stormed out. Burke looked at him from his office and he shrugged


	43. Life After Death Part 8

Irenaeus looked in to Sherlock's office, when he came back from his lunch break at the end of the week and she wasn't there. He asked her every day if she wanted to come with him, but she always declined and that day she hadn't been in all morning.

He looked at Burke's office. The glass was frosted. That meant he had an important meeting. He was going to ask Burke if he'd seen her. When she was absent longer than usual he couldn't help but worry about her.

He was about to head to his office when the door to Burke's open. "Thank you, Harriet." he heard Burke say. "You are a model scientist."

"Well…I hardly think I wouldn't be." Sherlock replied haughtily. She jumped when Irenaeus cleared his throat.

"Having a business meeting?" asked, Irenaeus forcing a smile.

"Yes, in fact. But I realise I am running late for a schedule one so we'll talk about it over dinner tonight Sherlock."

"Mind if I join?" asked Irenaeus.

"Oh I don't know that would be ruining our competition."

"Competition?" Sherlock question confused.

"Yes, see who makes the most money this month." Irenaeus replied. "We can't have life with no competition."

"The thrill is in the chase. Never in the capture." Sherlock replied.

"You of all people know that." Irenaeus replied.

Sherlock nodded. "Will you be working until seven?" Burke asked Sherlock.

"Yes I have a lot of photocopying to do." Sherlock replied.

"Thanks for the help, anyway. I'm off now."

He left and Sherlock and Irenaeus stood staring at anything other than each other. "So what were you talking about?" Irenaeus asked.

"He was just asking me stuff about my knowledge in bio sciences. Things I learned. Obviously I couldn't mention what I was really good at. Strangely enough he was impressed."

"Oh I'm sure he was impressed." Irenaeus replied, bitterly.

"What's wrong with you? Have you and Agata had an argument again?" Sherlock asked.

"No. There's nothing wrong." he replied. "I hope you enjoy dinner with, Burke."

"I don't think it's meant to be enjoyable he's probably going to go on and on about, stock markets and…and…I don't even know because I end up falling asleep every time he speaks."

"You managed to invest in any companies."

"Two." Sherlock replied.

"Already…well done."

"I got told to leave the information on your desk."

"Yeah. I'll look at it." he replied.

"To be honest…I am not capable of doing this job. I just gave fifty thousand each to two companies and I'm hoping for the best."

"It's only a hundred grand."

"Only!? John would kill me…"

"Yeah…maybe but to me it's nothing. Burke went through millions before he got it right. I made my first money on doing what I'm good at. I made security systems and the best security system I ever did was infiltrated by this annoying, nosey, but…." He hesitated. "It was ruined by you."

"You had to go being all…mysterious and vague and cryptic."

"And that led you to the password how?"

"If I was going to lock something, I'd lock it with you."

"Yeah." he replied nodding. He walked over lifted her necklace out of her blouse. "I am glad you like it."

"You hit, that Frankland guy just to get it back."

"Frankland guy? You getting American on me?"

"Maybe." she replied.

"I hit that Frankland guy because he hurt you." he replied before kissing her hand. "I'll see you at some point. Call my mobile if you need me."

"Do you think I'll get lost or something."

"It wouldn't matter whether it was raining, snowing, sunny, freezing, or whatever…I'd come and find you if you were."

"That's nice of you to say so." she replied, nodding. She didn't know how to respond to kindness being thrown her way. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She stepped in to her office and he stepped in to his.

* * *

Burke handed her a file over the table in the restaurant he'd taken her too. "Could you identify these substances for me?"

She opened up the file and her face fell. "I assume by the way your face went, that you recognise them."

"Yes. Heroine, Cannibas, Coccaine, LSD…"

She closed the file over and then took a large sip of her wine. She felt sick thinking about them. Seeing them in investigations were fine, but seeing them in an uncontrolled environment, and in the way her mind was, brought too many bad memories back.

"So you recognise them?" Burke asked.

"Yes; I do. They are illegal…I'm aware…"

"Yes they are, Harriet." replied Burke, before leaning forward. "But not only do I get a little extra money to my regular job…I have a wonderful plan. How would you like to be my business partner…"

"In what exactly? I thought you needed my chemistry knowledge."

"I don't need you for your brains per say. I need you because you and Agata get on well and that means you can get in to Adler's house at any time."

* * *

Irenaeus went downstairs to find that Agata was sitting on the sofa and she was drawing. "What are you drawing?" Irenaeus asked, curious.

"Sherlockina…I mean Harriet." Agata replied. I thought she could hang it up in her office. It's really bare. Where is she by the way?"

"Having dinner with Burke." he answered. The look in his face and the way he said it told Agata that he was secretly annoyed with the idea.

"You're jealous."

"I'm not jealous." Irenaeus replied. "Why would I be jealous?"

"I'm not surprised that she's at dinner with…"

"You're NOT surprised?"

"Yeah…every time I went to see her after school this week he had gotten her chocolates or flowers. She always gave me the chocolates and he was always walking in and checking up on her. He isn't that bad looking either…"

Irenaeus shot her a look. "Are you jealous?" he quipped.

"That's not what I meant. To most woman he is."

"It's just a business meeting." Irenaeus replied. "It doesn't matter."

He sat down and looked around. "How was school…you never called me."

"It was fine. Really fun. Done lots of work."

"Good."

"You're helping me with my math homework." she replied.

"Alright bossy."

* * *

Sherlock stood up abruptly after she'd listened to Burke's story. "I'm not staying here a moment longer."

"Kingston said that…So I leaned and leaned on him. Then he quit and he took my money from my safe that I'd got from the drugs and you know what I did…Well when they pull him out of the Hudson river…then they'll know. I don't suppose you know much about homicides but…"

"Oh you'd be surprised." Sherlock replied. "I'm not frightened. Go ahead and try and kill me."

"I'm going to let you think about it over the weekend. Then we'll have a scheduled meeting in my office on Monday."

"Why don't I just go and tell him what you're doing…"

"Who do you think he'll believe? Me? His best friend…or you? We're tighter than blood, Adler and me. You're just…a pretty face in an office."

"I'm only this pretty because brainy's the new sexy."

"You tell, Adler and he'll be broken if he does believe you and if he doesn't you're fired. Not to mention…I'll come after you and I'll kill you."

"That's ambitious of you."

"You've no idea what kind of a man you're dealing with here."

"You've no idea who you're dealing for and as in terms of a man…you're nothing."

"Monday…remember…"

"There is nothing you can say or do that'll threaten me in to helping you and I'm not leaving either."

"Then let the game begin, Miss Baker. What was it you said to Adler…Thrill is in the chase…never in the capture."

"That was between him and me and this time it's out of context." Sherlock replied.

"Do you want word to go around the offices that you've done drugs." whispered, Burke.

Sherlock's face fell again.

"I can tell an ex-user a mile away. A little thing happens with their eyes…"

"Do what you want…I'm not helping you."

"Think it through."

Sherlock walked away and took a deep breath. Burke was right. Adler would be broken if he found out. She just hoped to God Monday would come slowly.


	44. Life After Death Part 9

Sherlock went back to her office. She didn't want to go back to Adler's house. When she got there she sat in her chair and thought with her hands in their pyramid shape. She picked up her phone, and called Irenaeus. "You okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Yeah, I went back in to the office…I forgot my number for the photocopier…"

"Use mine. It's one zero three eight nine." he replied. "You okay you sound a bit shaken up about something."

"I am honestly fine. Nothing is wrong at all."

"If there was something though you'd tell me right? I'm trying to help."

"I know you are. Everything is okay. Are you okay?" she asked him.

"Yeah I am fine. Oh…Sherlockina…how was dinner?"

"I'm not calling that dinner." she replied. "Out of curiosity when did Kingston resign?"

"Three weeks ago exactly. Why?"

"No reason. Just curious. Didn't I say curiosity? I need to go and get this photocopying done. How is Agata?"

"She's fine."

"Good." Sherlock replied, before hanging up. She turned on her computer and brought up Google. "Help me out here."

* * *

Irenaeus looked on at an annoyed Agata who had been checkmated for a fifth time that night in chess. "You're a sore loser, and a bad chess player."

"You're cheating!"

They heard a chuckle and Irenaeus looked up to see Burke. "Hey…what ya doing here?"

"Making sure we're still on for golf tomorrow."

"Sure. Why not? How was the project with Harriet?"

"I would keep an eye on her. She's new. You can't be sure."

"What do you mean?" Irenaeus asked.

"The things she said about you at dinner."

"Shut up, Burke!" Agata spoke before standing up. "You're talking so much shit it's beginning to…"

"Agata!" Irenaeus scolded.

"So you're going to let him stand there and lie about Sh…Harriet."

"Agata, I'm sorry. I spoke out of turn about your friend. Why don't you punch me in the nose? Isn't that what you usually do when you're mad at someone?"

"Burke you're out of line!" Irenaeus shouted. "Now I don't know what's go in to you tonight but just stop it okay."

"I wasn't the one who hired a non-educated business woman who ended up causing a scene at the restaurant today. Check out the security footage if you don't believe me. I was sitting there calmly trying to explain."

"You know what…this is a work issue. I'll deal with it on Monday."

"Good."

"I don't think I'm in the mood to play golf tomorrow."

When Burke was gone, Irenaeus turned to Agata. "I know you and Sherlock argue all the time but she wouldn't say horrible things behind your back. If anything she sticks up for you when I'm giving you a hard time."

"I don't believe that Sherlock did say something like that for a minute. Especially not to Burke. She doesn't talk lightly with people. So why is Burke annoyed. He's pissed off about something. I can see it in his face. What did she say to bother him. I think I'll take his advice and pull the footage."

"You distrust him?" Agata asked.

"I don't want to but…I think I can say that he doesn't like Sherlock that much. Or Harriet as he knows her as."

"Why not, do you think?"

"New rival…jealousy…"

"Can I please use the landline…I forgot the questions I had to do for homework and I wonder if Sara knows."

"Yeah on you go." Irenaeus replied. "You've got ten minutes."

"Thanks." Agata replied.

* * *

Sherlock's desk phone rang and she picked it up. "It's me…Agata. Listen I only have ten minutes but what did you do to piss of Burke? He came around here and told my brother that you were saying things behind his back about him."

"Yeah because I really want to talk about your brother at everything chance I get." Sherlock replied as she typed in to her computer.

"Listen…what kind of problems are you having with Burke…Is he up to something…I don't trust him. I think he might be running a scam or something. "

"What makes you think that?"

"I remember on my work experience, which wasn't that long ago. Him and Kingston got in to this fight and then a few days later Kingston just quits his job."

"Did you ever tell your brother?"

"Burke's his favourite person."

"Yeah I noticed."

"Besides Burke knows all my issues at high school. I don't want the whole office knowing about them."

"Tell me about it." Sherlock replied.

"What if he was running a scam or still is and Kingston found out about it. So he went to Burke for money but Burke threatened him or something and then Kingston left."

"Maybe."

"You should look in to it you're an investigator."

"What do you think I'm doing, Agata?"

"Sherlock…"

"It's not quite a scam. More like he's using your brother's resources for drug dealing."

"You need to tell Irenaeus!"

"I can't. He'll either not believe me or he'll believe me and he'll be hurt." Sherlock replied. "I can't be the cause of that pain."

"Then I'll help you bring him down."

"No. Don't you get involved in this! It's bad enough he's blackmailing me. Thing is, Agata….he's got no idea who he's dealing with."

"He's blackmailing you?"

"You can't tell your brother. The whole integrity of my investigation depends on secrecy."

"So where are you starting?" Agata asked.

"Kingston. Listen…I need to get a few bugs in to Burke's office."

"Yeah."

"The thing is Agata. I have security cameras everywhere."

"Brother's security. But I can turn it off from here."

"I don't have any bugs." Sherlock replied.

"What do we need bugs for?"

"Evidence."

"OK. You come home tonight and go back in tomorrow and I'll shut off the cameras from Irenaeus' computer. Irenaeus is really mad at Burke though. He is acting as if he's neutral but he's annoyed because he thinks he's lying to get you out of a job."

"More like he's deliberately went there raving because he knew you'd get back to me. He's trying to play a mind game and believe me only one person has ever been really good at that enough to win and impress me."

"Who was that?" Agata asked.

"Who do you think?" Sherlock replied.

"No! Really?!"

"Anyway…"

"Wait…Burke's weakness is…he doesn't know how much you mean to Irenaeus. He cares about you."

"That's nice of him." Sherlock replied, sincerely.

"I mean…he really cares about you. I can see it."

"I know. I got it the first time Agata. I'm coming back soon. But we need to hurry tomorrow morning with the bugs. The FBI are probably going to come knocking. That's if they find anything."

"FBI?"

"Let's just say I called in an anonymous tip." Sherlock replied before hanging up.


	45. Life After Death Part 10

Sherlock was in her office on Monday, tapping the desk. She'd been there all day and night from Sudany. "You okay?" Irenaeus asked. "Surely you don't have this much photocopying?" he asked. She jumped. She had not expected him to just come in and she'd been pensive.

"I'm…"

"You say fine and I'll honestly…"

Irenaeus' phone rang and he answered it right away. "Hello…I'm on my way." he replied. He turned to Sherlock. "We'll talk later…Agata hurt herself in PE this morning."

"I'm sorry. You should take her home."

"I don't know how bad it is." he replied.

"Well…take her to x-ray or something anyway." Sherlock replied. "John used to insist that I went there when I had injured myself."

"I'm sure that was often. Come with me…you shouldn't be here. You've not slept…"

"I never sleep. I'm fine."

"Fine but I know something is going on and you're not telling me…I don't care what it is…Tell me!"

"I'll deal with it."

"The way you say deal is telling me it's massive and I know Burke's behind it."

Sherlock looked up in shock. "I think you should find Agata."

* * *

Sherlock sat in her chair watching what was going on outside her office. Finally Burke came in and he looked absolutely angry. "He opened his door and gestured for Sherlock to come in to his office."

She smiled and got up. "Yes, Burke?" she asked when she went inside.

"The FBI have just pulled, Kingston's body out the Hudson."

"Kingston's body? I'm sorry; you must be heart broken." Sherlock replied, in her dull tone she normally took on with people like Anderson or Sally. "I'm sure he was a good friend."

"If I find you had something to do with it…"

"I'm not sure what you're saying? Are you implying that I killed him? Now, that's just stupid. But then again; I should expect nothing less from someone as simple minded as you. Now I better go because you have a meeting in half an hour and I have photo copying to do and I'm sure I should tidy my office before the FBI come. I have so much I could tell them." she said with that mockingly pleasant tone, that used to always frighten John.

"You tell them about my project…"

"This project would be…"

"The one we discussed on Friday."

"Oh you mean that one where you asked me if I wanted to help your drug dealing business and I said no and you threatened to spread nasty lies around the photocopying room about me if I didn't help you…Oh…that one right…I'm still not interested."

"Believe me…once I've had my business meeting you are going to cover my back when the FBI comes. An alibi."

"You won't have a back worth covering when all the money you are giving to your drug dealers in the meeting this morning suddenly goes…missing and with the unease of the feeling that the FBI could be coming in to talk to you…you won't be at your sharpest."

"Don't make me kill you too."

Sherlock shrugged. "Good luck." she replied.

* * *

Irenaeus sat next to Agata who clutching her arm. "She won't let me look at it." explained the school nurse.

"It's alright." Irenaeus replied.

"I'm fine. I just need painkillers. They won't give me any." complained Agata.

"I'll take her home." Irenaeus replied. They both stood up and he held the door opened for her. "You're alright. Where's your books"

"In my locker."

"Let's get them." he replied.

On their way there, Irenaeus' phone rang and Agata looked at it. "Aren't you going to answer that?"

"It can wait."

"It's fine, answer it." Agata replied firmly. He shook his head and answered.

"Hello…I am just at school picking up my sister…I will go back in on my way back…Thank you."

Irenaeus let out a deep breath. "What's up?" Agata asked.

"You remember Kingston, don't you?" asked Irenaeus.

"Of course I do…" Agata replied. "Is something up?"

"He's dead."

"Dead?!" she asked surprised.

"You okay?" he asked her.

"Yeah I'm fine. Dead…do they have a suspect yet for who killed him?"

"OK. You look surprised about the death part but you are suddenly jumping to murder here…"

"It's a natural assumption and he could have had enemies…"

"Agata…I know that look…"

"If Burke has gone as far to kill Kingston then he'll maybe kill Sherlock."

"What are you talking about, Agata?"

"Sherlock made me promise not to tell you…"

"Agata!"

She swallowed.

* * *

Sherlock was looking at a new wonder drug on the pharmaceutical market when an FBI agent stepped in to her office. She could tell, with one simple glance at the suit, the gun, and the way his eyes scanned her office.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"Just want to ask you some questions ma'am. I'm Special Agent Donald."

"Harriet Baker." she replied, extending her hand. The agent shook it. "How can I help you, Special Agent Donald."

"Do you know this man?" he asked, showing her a photo of Kingston.

"No. I haven't seen him before but I'll take a deductive guess and say Mr Kingston who had this job before me."

"Why would you think it's him?"

"Just a guess." she replied. "Excuse me…I have photocopying to do and it looks like Burke is in a meeting; so I wouldn't try talking to him."

Sherlock picked up two folders from her desk. "How exactly did you come about working for Irenaeus Adler?" he asked her.

"I showed exemplar knowledge of passwording." she replied before walking out.

* * *

Irenaeus stormed in to his office to find that the FBI were waiting on him. "Good morning, Mr Adler."

"It's a minute past twelve on my watch. If you want to be technical…good afternoon."

He turned around and look in to Burke's office. The glass was frosted. "When was the last time you saw Kingston?"

"When he quit. Three weeks there on Friday. I was away…Burke dealt with it. I was sad to hear that he'd left. He was a good friend."

"And the replacement…"

"Harriet Baker. One of the smartest people on this planet but she…"

"How long has been working here?"

"Since last Monday. You suspect murder don't you"?

"We're carrying out necessary questions. Routine."

"Do you have a suspect in mind…"

"I told you it's routine."

"We both know it's not." Irenaeus replied. "You want a suspect…put my associate Burke on your list. I'm just about to fire him."

* * *

Sherlock grabbed a taxi to the docks. She ducked under the crime scene tape and made her way to a warehouse. When inside she switched on a torch too look around. On a table was residue from cocaine.

She removed took a camera out her bag and began to take photos. "What are you doing?"

She turned around to see a tall, bulky man with a tattoo on his neck. "I'm doing a photography class."

"I recognise you…"

_"Recognise me?! That's not good!"_

"Really? I don't think you do. You've got me mixed up with someone else."

"Harriet Baker…"

"No. My name's not Harriet Baker."

She heard footsteps from behind and then something heavy striking the back of her head.

* * *

"Where's Burke?" Irenaeus asked, the security guard.

"He slipped out."

"Have you seen, Harriet? Harriet Brown…the new associate."

"She left before him with a camera."

"A camera? Did she say where she was going?"

"You pay me to keep an eye on the cameras not ask people questions to see where they are going for lunch."

"Thanks." he replied before getting the elevator back up to the top floor. He rushed in to Sherlock's office. "I know you're not that stupid, Sherlockina. At least I'm hoping so."

He opened her drawer and found a file. It was marked photocopy. He opened it to find the area of the docks where they found Kingston's body. It was also one of the warehouses that Burke had rented out to keep his investment goods in. "Sherlock…"

Her desk phone rang and he picked it up after recognising the number. "Agata, now isn't a good time sweetie…Burke's office?...Thank you."

* * *

Sherlock woke up tied to a chair, her head pounding like two big kettle drums. "I did warn you." It was Burke who had spoken.

"Yeah and perhaps I didn't warn you enough. You've no idea who you're dealing with. I tipped off the FBI about the body, there is camera footage of the meeting you had with you dealer friends, and not to mention I compiled my own evidence from good old fashioned investigative work. You're not my first blackmailer."

"I gave you a chance, Miss Baker. Shame it's ending. Now I'm going to leave you here, in silence and I'm going to go back and get the cameras you've supposedly put in my office and then I'm going to find this evidence you've compiled and **then **you'll die."

Sherlock chuckled. "Yeah. Okay." Sherlock replied. "Good luck with that one and by the way…"

She couldn't finish. She was interrupted by the sound of sirens. Burke turned around and shot the dealer that was with them and then he untied, Sherlock. "You can decide, be my hostage who I'll kill later or make it look like he attacked you and I've saved you. What's it going to be?"

"I'd rather you took me hostage." Sherlock replied. "More to arrest you on later. I'm not going to comply with it. I'm not going to be made a weakling by you."

He grabbed her and put the gun to her head. "Then let's take a walk."

* * *

Irenaeus got to the dock, ten minutes after the police and the FBI did. He reached there just in time to hear the gun shot. He broke in to a run to find Sherlock staring to her left, while Burke lay on the ground lifeless. The FBI hadn't shot and neither had NYPD. The question was who had?

* * *

Sherlock was taken to an ambulance and her head was examined. "I'm fine." she told the paramedic and when they'd eventually let her go, she just wanted to keel over. She saw Irenaeus and she couldn't help but quickly look away. "Sherlock…"

"Can I just go back to your house please? I'm tired. I don't feel well." she said before he could finish. "I hope the FBI found the evidence…."

"Oh yes they did!" he replied. "You don't keep things like that from me, Sherlock."

"I had to…"

"Sherlock I would have helped…"

"But he was your best friend…You cared about him."

"I care about you more. I wish you'd realise that."

He walked away and Sherlock sighed. "This is for you." a FBI agent said, to Sherlock before handing her a phone. She answered it.

"Hello."

"You need to be more careful, Sherlockina. Or is Harriet Baker now?"

She recognised the voice. "Mycroft…"

"I'll keep an eye on John. It's quiet without you here. London's lost its…madness."

"I'm sure you'll find some way of bringing it back. It was one of your snipers wasn't it?"

"Yes it was. I'll speak to you later when I'm sure things are secure."

"If you know I'm alive I might as well ask for a favour."

"Anything."

"Sebastian Moran. Find out who he is."

"I shall." he replied before ending the call.

Irenaeus stood on his balcony later on the night, angry but unable to understand who at and why. He heard footsteps and he turned around. "You didn't knock." he commented.

"I'm sorry would you like me to go back…"

"No." he replied.

"It doesn't matter whether I'm cold or kind; I always anger people."

"I'm not angry."

"You are. I'm sorry about Burke…"

"I told you…I'm not angry at you about what Burke done or because he done it. That's not your fault. You should have come to me when you found out."

"I didn't want to hurt you. You've been so annoyingly tolerable of everything that I've done and I owe you a lot. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt your feelings. I…suppose that's because I care about you."

He put his hand on her cheek and drew her in to him. "Sherlockina, you still don't get it." he replied.

"Get what?" she replied.

He kissed her lips and then brought his lips to her ear. "You can be so stupid sometimes."

He wrapped his arms around her. "By the way you're fired. "

"That's the best news I've heard all month."

He chuckled. "Dinner?"


	46. Life After Death Part 11

Sherlock made her way downstairs the next morning and found she'd slept in. She was shocked that she had slept at all but then again after everything that had happened the day before, her mind and body had both finally given in.

She found Agata lying on the sofa, staring at the ceiling when she got to the living room.

"Before you ask why I'm not at school I bunked off because my shoulder is hurting and yes, Irenaeus knows and no you don't have to keep an eye on me and I dislocated it and it was painful when they it back in place and I might get my phone back on Monday if I behave and don't cause or take part in any more fights."

Sherlock nodded, and picked up a newspaper.

"This is why I like you. You don't try too hard to be overly nice to me when my brother is around and then be horrible to me behind his back. You're always the same and you're always honest and you put up with a lot of my grumpiness. I'm glad that you went to dinner with Irenaeus last night. I like you better than Gloria but she's a bitch so it's not hard but even if she wasn't a bitch then I'd like you…"

"I…" began Sherlock.

"I know you went to dinner because Sara saw the two of you when she was out shopping for Christmas presents. She sent me a photograph. Don't tell me it was a business meeting because I know he's fired you."

"You're an observant, and well informed young woman Agata. For that you've earned my total respect and I must say I'm impressed."

"Sara hates you."

"Sara?"

"She was totally crushing on my brother."

"I umm…sorry?" Sherlock replied, confused.

"It's not your fault. Besides, she'd have forgotten about him in two months. She jumps from person to person. It'll be an actor or singer next."

Sherlock blinked.

* * *

"You know it's coming up for Christmas and I was wondering what you normally do on Christmas. I think we could have a Christmas party or we could go to one. Irenaeus always has some client or business partner or even ex business partner or a rival's party to attend.

"That's very good, Agata." Sherlock replied, learning that it always brought a smile to the teen's face despite the fact that Sherlock had zoned out of listening to anything she said.

"I honestly hope I don't have to go in to school tomorrow. Sherlock why don't you come with me? You can help me not fail at chemistry."

"You do well enough." Sherlock replied before standing up and then walking to the fire place. Sherlock sighed.

"You know I was thinking…why don't we solve crimes together. I could blog about it at school."

"No! I'm done investigating."

"You miss it I think and I think you even enjoyed the threat Burke brought. It was a bit of your old life."

"That life is dead. I will never investigate another thing and nor am I going to deduce another person."

"But isn't that what you lived for; to solve crimes?" Agata replied, sounding curious. "It's what you're good at."

"Not really. I don't know what I am good at any more. I'm tired. I think I'll go upstairs and rest."

* * *

"Your girlfriend is depressed!" Agata said, as soon as Irenaeus stepped in to the living room later that evening.

"She's permanently like that." Irenaeus replied. "You feeling better?"

"No. I'm still in tremendous pain."

"You need to move it." Irenaeus replied, referring to her shoulder.

"Do I have to it…it requires energy." she replied. A smile appeared on her face as she waited for Irenaeus to click with what she had said. Then he turned around and eyed her questioningly.

"Alright how did you know?"

"Sara told me. She saw you."

"How could Sara have told you if you're phone has been confiscated."

"She called the landline last night to tell me what work I missed at school."

"How convenient." Irenaeus replied, sceptically. "But since you're working so hard…"

Agata looked up and then he tossed her, her phone. "But you said Monday…"

"If you want to wait until then…"

He was cut off with her running over and hugging him, with one arm. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"

She ran upstairs, passing Sherlock on her way. Sherlock looked at her run off with a smile. "Agata says that you are depressed." Irenaeus stated, as soon as she downstairs and in the living room.

"Am I?" she asked. "I don't think I'm depressed."

"You know Christmas is coming up."

"Yeah."

"Remember last Christmas?" Irenaeus asked as he watched her pace up and down.

"Yeah." she replied. "My father turned up after years of not showing his face! I am so glad I'm dead…He probably doesn't even notice."

"Sherlock you're driving yourself crazy. You need to…"

"What? What can I do?!" Sherlock replied. "My mind is confused because it's being controlled by two organs! My brain and my heart! I don't know what's happening to me anymore! I've suddenly become emotional! I don't understand!"

"Sherlockina…" began Irenaeus as he stood up and walked over to her. "You're bound to feel like that. It's normal."

"I am not normal."

"No; maybe you're not and that's exactly why I…I like you so much. But you can't let all those feelings stay inside there…" He tapped her chest where her heart was. "Because it'll destroy what's up here." He tapped her forehead. "We're meant to feel them. We're meant to express them or they'll destroy us."

He took both her hands in his. "I know that you didn't have a nice time growing up and that you resorted to the drugs because they were your escape and then you had a hard time getting off of them and I don't judge you for that and I don't judge you for trying to stop feeling anything to stop getting hurt. But the point is…it's okay now! You have to let it go or else it's going to destroy you and that'll destroy me having to watch it. Yes you'll get hurt but I'm here…I'll make it better every time."

He put his arms around her and she rested her head on his chest. A few tears escaped from their ducts, and rolled down her cheeks. "It'll all be okay."


	47. Life After Death Part 12

Sherlock was brushing her hair and staring in to space the next morning. When the door opened she jumped and then turned around to see, Irenaeus. She breathed out and he smiled. "Morning."

"Morning." she replied, quietly.

"I brought you a present." he informed her, before handing her a box. She held it in her hand and stared at him.

"Thank you." she told him before sitting it down. "How did I get here? I don't even remember falling asleep."

"You fell asleep downstairs and I took you up." he replied, before walking over to the balcony. "How are you feeling?"

"I don't know." Sherlock replied, honestly. "But I think it's safe to say I'm crazy."

Irenaeus snickered. "I was wondering if you would come to a gathering tonight with me?" he asked her.

"Gathering? As in with a lot of people because I'm not good with people." Sherlock replied. She opened up her box and found the new blackberry. It was a light blue customised case.

"Cell phone. You should always be able to communicate with me, or Agata and Mycroft as well."

"Mycroft?" Sherlock asked, questioningly.

"I know he called you that day at the crime scene." he informed her. Sherlock nodded. "Someone phoned for you; I was told and who else would want to talk to you just after someone got shot by a sniper. It could only be your brother." Sherlock nodded again.

"Thank you. I wish I could do something for you." Sherlock replied.

He walked over and put both his arms around her. "Come to the party…I mean gathering with me." he told her and she nodded. He gave her a gentle kiss on her lips, before getting ready to walk out of the room. Then he doubled back. "Pick a colour."

"Umm…Purple…red…"

"I ask for a colour not colours!" he replied, with raised eyebrows. Sherlock smiled. "You're not leaving without breakfast either. I've decided to put my foot down with you too!" His tone suggested he had been in an argument with Agata about eating her breakfast. "Oh and don't worry about the gathering…it's not until the 23rd."

Sherlock shrugged and then Irenaeus left. Where was she going to go?

* * *

Agata made her way, despondently through the school corridors. She had her phone in her hand as she texted her friend, who she would probably see within minutes but she had the added bonus of talking to Sherlock.

"Well look if isn't Adler!" a girl with long reddish-brown hair said before approaching Agata with her hands on her hips. "How dare you come in to school after staying off for two days without telling me you were coming back. You've been texting me all morning! Could have told me!"

"Hey Sara." Agata replied, and Sara hugged her.

"How is your shoulder now?" Sara asked, concerned. Agata just nodded. That meant okay, in her and Sara's language. "I am so not looking forward to the tests today."

"Tests? As in plural?! Oh no! What is it?" panicked Agata.

"Math." replied, Sara. "I know disgusting…except when it comes to Irenaeus but he's just brilliant at complicated things. You're so lucky to have him as a brother you know!"

"I know. You jealous?" Agata replied, raising her eyebrows. "But if I fail this math test I'll disappoint Irenaeus."

"You better pass!" Sara ordered. "You can't disappoint him!"

"Shut up and get over him will you!" Agata replied.

"So what bitch is he with now?" Sara asked.

"She's not a bitch. I quite like her actually." Agata replied.

"Oh. Then she must be nice if you like her." Sara replied.

"Yeah so don't call her a bitch." Agata replied defensively.

"OK. I won't! I'm sorry!" replied Sara. "She is pretty."

"Yes." agreed Agata before the bell rang seconds later. Sara and Agata sighed in unison. "Let's go."

"Yes. Let's go." Sara replied.

* * *

When Agata came home she brought Sara with her. Sherlock was in the middle of reading a book she'd gotten from the library and Agata smiled and nodded in Sherlock's direction. "Hey, Harriet." Sara greeted. Sherlock turned around and then realised who she was.

"Hello." Sherlock said, politely before standing up. "Did you get much homework?" Sherlock inquired, causing Agata and Sara to nod in reply.

"My mum's not home until late tonight." Sara explained "Agata said it shouldn't be any trouble if I stayed here for a while. The thought of being on my own is quite…well scary."

Sherlock nodded. She could understand that. "I'm here if you two need me." Sherlock replied. Sara went over and hugged Sherlock and Agata just shrugged.

"I think you're absolutely wonderful, Harriet. You're so nice!" Sara said, cheerfully.

"You'll find that MOST of my friends are really eccentric." Agata replied.

"I'm not and since when was I more than one person?" Sara argued, turning around.

"I have other friends!"

"Like who?!" Sara asked.

"Harriet!" Agata replied.

"Then you just called Harriet eccentric! You're so stupid!" Sara replied rolling her eyes. "I mean God Agata no wonder you flunked your math test today!"

"She is eccentric and that's what makes her cool. What makes you cool too!" Agata replied.

"You think I'm cool?" Sara asked before hugging Agata. "I love you."

"Flunked?" Sherlock asked

"Don't tell Irenaeus!" Agata replied. "I…didn't know about the math test and I didn't study for it. If I remembered I would have."

"I got a B+." Sara said, proudly.

"That is good." Sherlock replied.

They heard footsteps from the hall. "I'll see you later." Agata told, Sherlock before running upstairs with Sara to hide. Irenaeus stepped in. "I'm Harriet." she told him before he could speak.

"Who is in?" asked Irenaeus.

"Sara. Agata's friend. Her mum's working late or something…"

"Ah." Irenaeus nodded. "That makes sense. How is Agata?"

"She seems okay." Sherlock replied.

"How is Harriet?" he asked, before kissing her cheek.

"Bored and tired." She sighed.

"Play chess?" he suggested casually. Sherlock nodded and they went to the chessboard in the living room. "You know something that's really interesting."

"What?" Sherlock asked.

"Agata's chemistry teacher is retiring. Quite ill. I was talking to the principal of Agata's school when they phoned me to tell me that her teachers were concerned with her grades…I think you should try it. Being a teacher. It's chemistry…it's basically all about water."

"No. Chemistry is not all water." Sherlock replied.

"Everything in chemistry boils down to water." Irenaeus replied, seriously. The both of them burst in to laughter.

"That was one of those play upon words…"

"A pun." Irenaeus said with a smile. "Do you know when it comes to math, everybody counts."

Sherlock laughed again. "That's…That's terrible."

"Think about it and give me an answer before, Agata finds out you've been offered and pesters you! Speaking of Agata. I should talk to her." Irenaeus replied.

"I think she's just had a lot on her mind and she's forgot about stuff." Sherlock replied.

"She should still be able to tell me that's she is struggling." Irenaeus replied.

"Maybe she doesn't want to let anyone down." Sherlock replied, knowingly.

"Maybe." Irenaeus agreed.

* * *

23rd December 2013

Sherlock came up to her room to find a dress hanging on her door. It was a purple velvet halter neck. "So this is what you meant by pick a colour." she thought. "I have not worn this kind of dress in ages."

"All the more reason you shoulder wear it and do you know you talk to yourself a lot." mused Irenaeus. Sherlock jumped and Irenaeus laughed.

"Don't do that." Sherlock replied.

"I remember when we first met. I startled you then as well. What do you think?" he replied.

"Of you startling me? It's not a very nice thought." was her response.

"The dress. It's formal." Irenaeus replied.

"It's just clothes." Sherlock replied. "I wear what I need to when I need to. That's why sometimes I would just like to wake up and wear my pyjamas all day." She paused for a moment in thought. "Why do I have to explain myself to you all the time?"

"Because sometimes when you talk to me you feel like an idiot?" he asked. She laughed. "Doesn't mean you are one thought." And with that he left her room.

* * *

A/N Dress photo is in profile and also to any reviewers out there who I used to talk to before they delted accounts you can email me, and my link to my email address is in my profile.


	48. Life After Death Part 13

The 'gathering' as Irenaeus called it was on the top floor of a high end loft. "My client bought all the rooms on this floor and the ones below." Irenaeus explained with a smile. Sherlock frowned. "What's up?"

"Nothing. Just what about the people who need to get a flat…" she began, righteously. Irenaeus laughed before she could finish and caused her to stop talking. "What?!" Now she was a little irritated. "Why do you laugh at everything I say?"

Irenaeus smiled. "It's apartments and don't argue darling we're meant to be a couple in harmony." Sherlock frowned in thought. The thought of her and Irenaeus being a 'couple' had not set in yet. She was still adjusting. "Besides…" he began as he brought her over to the windows. "He's made up for buying all those apartments by building houses with white picket fences." Sherlock folded her arms and drew him a look. "You know the white picket fence dream?"

Sherlock shook her head. "I'm still not used to all the American Buzz words. Agata normally explains them to me." Sherlock looked around. "There are so many people here."

Irenaeus waved to someone suddenly and then brought his lips to Sherlock's ear. "Yes; there is. Don't worry, though." he assured her. The man that Irenaeus waved to made his way up.

"Irenaeus; how are you?" he asked with a smile. He was taller than Sherlock or Irenaeus and Sherlock felt a little at unease. She was used to everyone being either the same height or shorter than her and it reminded her of her times in school when the main group of bullies would tower over her.

"I am very well. I am so glad you invited me. We rarely get to develop our friendship beyond business." Irenaeus replied with a smile. "This is my girlfriend, Harriet Baker." Sherlock/Harriet smiled as Irenaeus' friend extended his hand to shake hers. Sherlock obliged.

"Hopefully you'll keep this one or that'll be a thirteen thousand dollar dress down the drain." he replied to Irenaeus jokingly. Irenaeus turned to Sherlock and sighed with a smile on his face. Sherlock could sense a glory filled explanation.

"You see George; Harriet is different. She's a joy to be around and she's very bright." Irenaeus replied as he gazed at Sherlock. "And my sister likes her so…"

"Well if Agata likes her then you've done something right. Where is your charming little sister today?" he asked.

"She was out shopping with her friend Sara and by the time she got back home, the poor kid was exhausted." Irenaeus replied, as he grabbed Sherlock's arm.

"Well I must be off; more guests to greet." George replied. "Nice to meet you Harriet."

"Likewise." Sherlock replied. She turned to Irenaeus. "Why are you holding my arm like that?"

"Because I want everyone to know that you're mine." he replied.

"You're showing me off?" Sherlock questioned.

"I always show off the things or people that I love." he replied with a smile before kissing her cheek. He had no idea what he'd just said and neither did Sherlock. "Besides if you manage to remain charming throughout the evening I could possibly have built a children's park." he replied. "I believe that our Senator is here tonight."

"I'm sorry. I don't understand. What's a senator?" Sherlock asked, confused.

"Politician." Irenaeus replied.

"Not my area." she replied quickly. "I'll probably end up deducing he's having an affair or something and end up getting him kicked out of his position." Irenaeus drew Sherlock a look. "Not good?"

"No." Irenaeus replied. "Unless he really is having an affair and then we wait until the park is built."

Sherlock looked puzzled for a moment as she thought. "OK. What is it now?" Irenaeus asked.

"I thought politicians didn't like spending money." replied Sherlock.

"Unless it's been donated to them." Irenaeus replied before grabbing two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. "Here have a drink and don't get too drunk."

"I've never been drunk before." Sherlock replied.

"Trust me after talking to some of these people you start to wish that you were." he replied.

"Why do you talk to them then?" Sherlock replied, with a raised eyebrow.

"Because there is a time for telling them that they bore you to death and then there is a time when you can just be nice and get a children's park built."

"So who is donating the money?" she asked.

Irenaeus looked at her. "A very handsome and very charming business man who cares about children."

"This is you isn't it?"

"You think I'm a very handsome and very charming business man who cares about children? Aren't I flattered?" he replied.

"You really love yourself, don't you?" Sherlock replied.

"Why wouldn't I?" he replied with another grin. "Ah look there is our mayor! Let's go talk to him! I haven't asked him how his new firewall at City Hall is working."

Irenaeus dragged Sherlock over. "Irenaeus Adler. Haven't seen you in a month. Firewall is working absolutely perfectly. We should discuss more security measures in the New Year." The Mayor greeted automatically.

"Well; I'd be happy to! This is my girlfriend, Harriet." Irenaeus introduced.

"Very lovely to meet you." The Mayor replied. He was about to continue speaking but his wife called him over. "Excuse me."

Sherlock looked to Irenaeus. "You're…You should have been an actor!" Sherlock said, frustrated when the mayor was gone. "How do you honestly just pull it off? It's like they reach out to you for your skills…"

"That's exactly how to do it. How do you get people to reach out to you for yours?" Irenaeus asked, with a raised eyebrow.

"John blogs." Sherlock replied with a nod to assure herself. Irenaeus chuckled. "I honestly don't know how…"

"I believe it's because of my chizzled features and piercing eyes." he replied.

"You're describing yourself as having chizzled features and piercing eyes?" Sherlock asked, sceptically.

"No. I was voted one of New York's most handsome businessman and that's what the journalist said." he replied. Sherlock rolled her eyes and then Irenaeus looked around. "Is that the Governor? We should go and say hello!" It took all of Sherlock's strength of mind to not roll her eyes as he began to drag her along.

* * *

"Three deals, Sherlock and before the New Year as well." Irenaeus said happily as he made his way in to the living room. Sherlock had her arms folded and they had been that way since they left the party.

"What?" Irenaeus asked.

"Oh nothing." Sherlock replied. "Just don't talk to me about the Solar System for a while."

"You're back." Agata stated cheerfully from the top of the stairs. "I was worried…." She was cut off by Irenaeus.

"You were worried about me? Oh that's sweet." Irenaeus stated.

"No I was worried about Sherlock…duh!" Agata replied. "I am going to bed now. Goodnight."

"Hey you'll have to tell me how shopping went tomorrow." Irenaeus told her.

"Yeah." she replied before yawning.

When she had gone Sherlock turned to Irenaeus. "I thought you told her not to wait up." Irenaeus chuckled at what Sherlock said.

"Since when does my sister listen to anything that I say?" he replied. "I'm sure John waited up for you plenty of times when you told him not to and I'm sure you done it for him as well."

"Yeah. You're right." Sherlock replied with a nod.

"I'm sorry about the solar system jokes." Irenaeus replied. He took her hand. "Let me show you something."

Sherlock sighed and he dragged her upstairs to his room. There was painting in the middle of the floor with a dust sheet over. "Agata painted this when she was ten." He took the cover off of it. It was painting of an asteroid. "I've finally managed to get a frame built for it to put up in my office. Look outside. What word would you use to describe the sky?"

"Beautiful." Sherlock replied honestly.

"But you don't understand it?" Irenaeus asked.

"No." Sherlock replied. "Doesn't mean I can't appreciate it."

"At nine years old, Agata didn't understand the beauty of how well she could paint or draw. She didn't even think it was nice but she thought that the asteroid she had seen in some movie or TV programme was very beautiful. Sometimes in life it's the things that we don't understand that are the most beautiful."

Sherlock nodded.

"I don't understand you all that much." Irenaeus told her. A tear slid down Sherlock's cheek and he wiped it away before put his hand on her neck and bringing her head in close to his, leaving a small gap between his lips and hers. "You can be absolutely charming when you want to be."

"I just rarely want to be charming." she replied with a wry smile. He broke the gap and kissed her. It was sweet at first but when she found herself kissing back, the intensity of it increased. When they broke away Sherlock looked at him apologetically. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry." he replied, before taking her hand and kissing her again as he led her to the bed.

* * *

A/N Since Christmas is coming up the next one will be posted on that day as a sort of special. I just want to say a big thank you to all of you for your support with this story and I'm really surprised at how much everyone loves Irenaeus.

I didn't expect a lot of readers when I began writing this. I never expect a lot of readers. In fact I don't expect anyone to read at all but I'm glad that I have four/five and it's really that much appreciated guys.

I'll upload this as soon as I get my internet working again but right now for some reason it isn't working and so I am off to rest my router. I apologise for any spelling/grammar error (although I always proof read twice) but I am using my iPad while I wait on my laptop cooling down. It won't stop overheating. I really only use my iPad for essays and stuff so Icloud is now filled with my story chapters. Guess I'll have to deal with that or pay for more storage which I am not going to do because that's not fair.

Anyway if I don't see/talk to you over the holidays have a lovely Christmas!


	49. Life After Death Part 14

Agata stood up in the attic of the house with her hands on her hips as she looked around. "Where is everything?!" she asked with aggravation. She flapped her arms before sighing and beginning to search through boxes. She sighed.

"Looking for something?" a voice asked. She turned around to see Irenaeus.

"Where is the stuff for the Christmas tree?" she asked, with her hands on her hips again.

"Should be around here." he replied before lifting boxes away. He dragged one out and smiled. "Found the tree."

Agata shot him a look. "You know we wouldn't have any problems with finding stuff in time if you done it before now!" she scolded him. "Where is Sherlock?"

"She's on the phone to Mycroft. Her brother." Irenaeus replied as he found the box full of lights for the tree. Agata drew him a look of contempt and Irenaeus shrugged at it.

"I know who, Mycroft is. I'm not completely stupid you know. Just because you're better at math than me. Please tell me Sherlock said she'll come and teach. Please!" Agata was grasping Irenaeus' suit jacket. Irenaeus chuckled. There were footsteps suddenly and Irenaeus looked up to see Sherlock.

"I've never been in this part of the house before." she stated. She looked around. Irenaeus saw she had a coat on and boots.

"Where are you going?" Irenaeus asked her, with a raised eyebrow. Agata looked at Sherlock and turned to Irenaeus.

"Are you completely dumb?" questioned Agata with a sarcastic tone. She smiled at Sherlock who smiled back. "She's obviously going out on last minute Christmas shopping. Look at the card she's got in her hand."

"You don't have any money on that. Do you need some?" Irenaeus asked. "Do you need me to come? You probably shouldn't be alone in New York City."

"No. I had Mycroft transfer the last of my money over. I am going in to the city. I believe that the water taxi is only on to five pm tonight and I want to get back before then. Good luck with your Christmas tree." Sherlock told them. "And I turned twenty nine in May; I think I can take care of myself."

"We never get it up until roughly ten o'clock at night by the time Irenaeus gets everything. He's so slow!" Agata rolled her eyes. "It's a big tree and he's one man."

"The man." corrected Sherlock with a smile. Irenaeus' eyes widened and Sherlock sighed. He was about to say something against her going on her own but Agata was too quick to carry on talking.

"Can I come?" Agata asked. "I promise I won't look at what you're getting me."

"No!" Sherlock replied. "No. I need some time on my own."

"That's never a good idea. You think too much." Irenaeus replied. "And Agata it is rude to assume that people are getting you a present."

Sherlock chuckled. "I haven't been thinking too much." Sherlock replied. "I have to let you and Agata have some time together. I've been intruding for too long."

"But you're part of the family now." Agata replied.

"Family?" Sherlock asked, hoarse. Irenaeus nodded and Sherlock swallowed. "I'll see you both later."

* * *

"This is why we get nothing done!" Agata complained as she ate her breakfast. "You can't go without eating! It's unhealthy! It's not as if I'm going to starve and we're getting Christmas dinner tomorrow!"

"Excuse me if I don't want you getting ill." Irenaeus replied.

"You're my brother; not my mother!" Agata replied. Irenaeus' face fell. Sometime Agata forgot how close Irenaeus had been with their mother. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean…"

"It's fine." he replied, before sipping his coffee. Agata walked over and hugged him. Irenaeus smiled.

"You'd make a very poor looking woman, anyway." Agata quipped. "By the way. All the presents that you've bought me…where are they?"

"I'm waiting on the tree to go up." Irenaeus replied.

"But we haven't even untangled the lights yet because you made us have breakfast." Agata replied with a sigh. Irenaeus laugh. "And I bet you haven't even wrapped them!"

He shrugged his shoulders and then stood up. "I think I'll get more coffee." he replied.

"You're doing this on purpose!" Agata replied and he grinned.

* * *

When Sherlock got back Agata and Irenaeus were in an argument. She was about to say something that would tell them she'd come back but she decided to just walk upstairs to her room.

"You were the one who lost it in the first place! Don't blame me!" Agata shouted. Sherlock smiled and shook her head and continued on her way.

She sat her bags in her closet behind her coats and then sat down on the edge of her bed as she thought. Her phone went off suddenly, indicating a text message. She looked in its direction before she picked it up and looked at it. **"He's an ex-marine sniper for the US Navy. We will discuss this more when I am sure we can talk face to face securely."**

**"Goodnight, Mycroft." **Sherlock replied.

She sat her phone on her bedside table and plugged it in to charge before she began making her way downstairs. "Sherlock we never saw you come in." Agata stated.

"I'm sure you never heard me either." Sherlock commented.

"Hey it was his fault!" Agata replied, pointing at Irenaeus.

"What's the matter?" Sherlock asked.

"Irenaeus lost my favourite bauble! He loses everything! I made it myself. It's someone playing polo. Horse and everything. I made it for him and he's lost it!" Agata accused.

"I did not lose it. It'll be in the box somewhere." Irenaeus replied. "Perhaps if you helped me look for it instead of arguing about it then we'd have found it by now."

"That's a big Christmas tree." Sherlock commented as she looked at it. "It blends in well with the fireplace and stuff."

She looked around.

"Sherlock can help, right?!" Agata asked.

"Well…yeah." Irenaeus replied. He was about to continue talking but Agata grabbed Sherlock's arm. "Agata Sherlockina is just…"

"It's Sherlock." Agata replied, giving Irenaeus a deathly stare. "What did you get me for Christmas Sherlock?"

"Agata!" Irenaeus sighed.

"Is this the bauble?" Sherlock asked, picking it out of the box.

"Oh…" Agata began. She turned to Irenaeus and winced. "Sorry."

"So you should be! I'm hurt that you even thought for a moment I would lose something that means a lot to me." Irenaeus replied a look of sheer pain on his face.

"I didn't mean it." Agata replied, looking horrified.

Irenaeus suddenly started laughing. "Your face. It was worth it."

Agata hit his arm and Sherlock couldn't help but shake her head. It was a new type of sibling relationship she had seen and since her 'death' she had went through a learning process as well as emotional development. In many ways she was the same person and in some ways she was changing and she wanted to believe it was all for the best and part of her was frightened at the same time because she knew Moriarty's network was still out there and it was only a matter of time before they found out she was still alive. She knew through her experience as a detective that it was not a matter of if but more a matter of when.

She must have spaced out because Irenaeus had his hand on her shoulder suddenly and she snapped out of her thoughts. "Are you alright? You have that pensive look on your face that usually makes me worry." he asked her. Sherlock just nodded. They stared at each other for a moment before Agata spoke.

"I'm still here guys, you know." she announced.

* * *

It was almost midnight by the time the tree was up. "Are you satisfied, now?" Irenaeus asked Agata who nodded in reply. "I am going to go to sleep now. I can't wait to see all the wonderful presents that you've bought me that you've not wrapped yet."

Agata began making her way upstairs. "Another joke?" Sherlock asked.

"I wish it was." he replied with a laugh.

"I could help you." Sherlock suggested.

"You don't mind?"

"I don't mind." Sherlock replied.

"I'll get us something to eat and drink while we do it then." he replied. "Meet me in the library."

* * *

"I still honestly can't believe that you stole an ash tray from Buckingham Palace." Irenaeus laughed.

"I got it for John. I think it was his birthday." she replied. Sherlock looked at the time on Irenaeus' watch. It was three o'clock in the morning roughly. They had just finished.

"Would it not be more logical if all shops and stuff wrapped presents up for you? That way it would save time." Sherlock asked. "Or is that just stupid of me to think that people could actually have half a brain to do that?"

"That's a good point and I honestly think you've had a little too much to drink." Irenaeus replied, before taking the bottle of wine away.

"It was there and I was bored." Sherlock replied before standing up and stretching. "I wouldn't say I'm drunk…just tipsy. I don't know…Maybe I shouldn't have taken the name Harriet."

Irenaeus stood up. "Come on let's get these under the tree. You shouldn't drink when you don't eat much you know." he told her.

After they got everything downstairs it was half past four in the morning. "Is it me or are we both tired?" Irenaeus asked. Sherlock sighed.

"Yeah." she replied.

"Agata drains the energy out of me sometimes." he laughed. "I wouldn't have it any other way though."

Sherlock nodded. "You're a good brother." Sherlock told him.

"Thank you." he replied. "But I was aware of that though."

Sherlock scoffed. "But to have a compliment from the great Sherlockina Holmes…it's nice." he added before putting his arms around her. "What's the bet that we get two hours of sleep and Agata comes and wakes us both up?"

"Cash or cheque?" Sherlock replied.

"You couldn't afford it." Irenaeus replied.

"You'd be amazed at how much money I've got! I have had several wealthy clients." she replied.

"Do tell." he replied as they made their way upstairs.

"I can't tell you. I've signed some secrets act thing…" she replied. "One of them law things."

Irenaeus chuckled. "You amaze me with your ignorance." he replied. She was about to go to the hallway that would lead her to her room but Irenaeus grabbed her hand. "Stay with me. You slept better last night."

Sherlock nodded and then rested her head on his shoulder as they walked.

* * *

A/N Merry Christmas Eve or Christmas depending where in the world that you live.


	50. Life After Death Part 15

A/N Sorry about the lateness of this chapter but my computer had a virus yesterday and I had to do a system recovery to get rid of it. I hope you had a good Christmas!

* * *

Sherlock woke up before Irenaeus. It was seven o'clock in the morning and she knew she had to get the gifts she had bought from her closet so she carefully moved herself from Irenaeu's arms and got up. Without making a sound she left and made her way to her own room.

* * *

When Agata woke up she immediately went downstairs to find Sherlock in the kitchen and quietly drinking coffee. "Merry Christmas!" Agata cheered before tightly hugging Sherlock. Sherlock patted the girl's shoulder and then managed to break herself free.

"Where is Irenaeus…I want to open my presents!" Agata groaned. "Oh wait…he probably had a hard time with all those gifts he hadn't wrapped up yet. He thinks I'm really stupid but I'm obviously not! I have intuition! He has math and computer stuff in his brain…and other business stuff…Well I have…intuition and the ability to imagine!"

Agata began to go off on a rant after that. Sherlock just stood staring at her but she was zoning out and entering her mind palace.

"Could Irenaeus draw a perfect replica of the Mona Lisa? No! Because…he's not creative artistically! Besides it's absolutely impossible because they used different kind of paints back then."

Sherlock laughed and turned around to see Irenaeus. "Morning you two." he spoke cheerfully. "Agata…you complaining about me?" he asked.

"No. I was saying how brilliant you are!" Agata said with false adoration . "But of course I don't have to tell you that..." Her voice turned normal. "What with you loving yourself and all."

Irenaeus was about to reply but decided against it. "I see you are desperate to open your presents." he stated.

"You see correctly." Agata replied. "The quicker I open them, the quicker I can phone Sara and tell her all about them!"

"Well we wouldn't want to disappoint Sara now would we?" Irenaeus asked. "So hurry up and eat your breakfast first!" Agata looked at him; obviously irritated. When she didn't move to get any breakfast after five minutes Irenaeus turned to her. "I'm sorry weren't you in a hurry?"

"You're nothing but a gremlin, Irenaeus!" sighed Agata before storming away from the table in the kitchen and to the fridge. "You're only doing this because I harmed your ego! Which I am always doing and so therefore you always do what you do!" She slammed the fridge door and brought out muffins. "I can't believe that you always make me have breakfast every morning! Some people can do without it! Like kids in third world countries."

"Kids in third world countries wouldn't be complaining about getting breakfast every morning, Agata. It's the most important meal of the day. You need it…You're at risk of anaemia!"

"I faint once in PE when I was ten because I didn't have my breakfast and you make me have it every single day!" Agata ranted before sitting down at the table. "Sherlockina have you ever fainted…"

"Well…" began Sherlock thinking about the times that Irenaeus had applied pressure to her carotid artery. Irenaeus shook his head.

"A couple of times…but it was because of…I was too nosey."

Irenaeus laughed. "I bet you were." he replied.

"How could you faint because you were nosey? Unless you saw something that you weren't meant to see…." began Agata

"That's quite enough, Agata. Sherlock obviously is too tired to have conversations at the moment. Aren't you Sherlock?" Irenaeus looked at Sherlock who nodded in reply. She shot him a questioning look when Agata wasn't looking.

"I'm going to go get changed." Agata announced after her breakfast. "Excuse me." Irenaeus looked at her.

"I thought you were dying to open your presents?" he asked.

"I have chocolate on my pyjamas. It's annoying!" she replied seriously before going upstairs to change.

"You don't want Agata knowing that you deliberately knocked me out…"

"I wouldn't say knock out…I never hurt you or anything. I would never do that but…If you tell her how I done that…well she'll use it on people in fights at school or she'll use it on herself and make herself pass out to get sent home." Irenaeus replied. "You thought much about the chemistry position yet?"

"I haven't…" she began.

Irenaeus looked at her. "Well…I'm not forcing you. I'll let Agata know you don't want to do it." he replied. "It's such a shame."

"I'm sorry…I'm sure Agata…"

"Oh I didn't mean a shame on Agata. For you. You're the one who is going to have to put up with her saying please over and over and over again until you give in."

He stood up and poured more coffee. "Good morning." he said before kissing her cheek.

"Morning." she replied.

"Merry Christmas." he said sincerely.

"Yeah. Merry Christmas." she replied, but Irenaeus could tell her heart, that she denied existed sometimes, was not with her words.

She got up and walked to the door before turning back. "I… put the presents I bought for you and Agata under the tree." she told him.

"Sherlock…you didn't have to get me or Agata anything…" Irenaeus told her sincerely.

Sherlock looked at him for a moment. "We all do things that we don't have to do." Sherlock replied. "That's life."

She walked away and sat in the living room on the sofa.

* * *

Agata opened her first present from Irenaeus. "Five hundred pounds worth of Itunes cards. Why don't you just give me a credit card and you wouldn't have to keep getting me these?" she replied before hugging him.

He shook his head. _"Always have to point out something, don't you?"_

"Thank you." she said a little while later. "I just say things like that to piss you off."

Sherlock watched with her head in her hand on the chair in the corner a small smile on her face.

Agata opened another present. "Ah…converse! I love them! They'll go well with my other thirteen pairs."

Sherlock was about to ask if she really needed so many but it was Agata she was talking about of course Agata needed so many. "A new mobile!" Agata screamed. "Thank you so much!"

She hugged Irenaeus. "Mobile?" Irenaeus questioned.

"Sherlock calls them mobiles. So I will too!" Agata replied. "Because Sherlock is awesome!"

"I'm really not." Sherlock said, with a wry smile.

The last present Agata opened from her brother (which was also number twenty five) was a bracelet.

"It's lovely! Thank you! You're too nice to me!" she muttered before hugging him. "And no I won't say that again."

Agata sat on the floor while Irenaeus shook his head again as smile showed on his face. "These are from Sherlock." Agata stated. She opened the first one and found a giant sketch pad for sketching or painting.

"How did you know I was needing one of these?" Agata asked Sherlock who just shrugged in return. "Thank you, Sherlock."

Agata looked surprised and perhaps a little more moved at Sherlock's first gift than she was the twenty five Irenaeus had given her. Maybe because she had expected so much gifts from Irenaeus. Sherlock on the other hand she had not expected much from and it shocked her.

She got up and hugged Sherlock. "Thanks."

"Hey…you deserve it." Sherlock replied. "Art is your area."

Agata opened her neck present sitting on the arm of the chair that Sherlock was sitting on while Irenaeus looked at them both in amazement. "It's materials…Thank you. I can use these buckles and stuff to make a new satchel."

"Yeah." Sherlock agreed.

By the time Agata had opened her presents from Sherlock she found it had all been stuff relating to her passion for designing. "Thanks, Sherlock. I never got you anything though." Agata turned around and said as she got ready to take all her presents to her room.

"I am not deserving of Christmas presents this year." Sherlock told her.

"Why do you say that?" Agata asked.

"Yeah why do you say that?" Irenaeus asked, Sherlock.

"Too much to tell." Sherlock replied. Irenaeus sighed. Sherlock was depressed again.

Agata hugged Sherlock. "Cheer up! You'll see John again someday and he'll only be a little bit pissed off at you. Then he'll probably punch you in the nose and then hug you!"

"Yeah…he probably will punch me in the nose…except he might not because he has a strong moral principle…he'll just shoot me instead." she replied before snickering.

"I'm going upstairs now. Irenaeus I hope you like your present." Agata said sternly.

When she was upstairs he opened his from Agata. "She makes me a tie every year." Irenaeus told Sherlock, holding it up. "I wear them."

"Does she make your suits as well?" Sherlock asked.

"Ten thousand dollars a suit…don't think so."

"Ah." Sherlock nodded.

"Agata would spend more making one." Irenaeus replied with a chuckle. "What you got her was really nice."

"No one ever pushed me to follow what I was good at. Mycroft pushed me to stop doing illegal stuff. Like drugs and smoking and trying to get myself killed all the time but…no one said…Sherlock you're good at this. You should do that…I got pushed downstairs when I was young because I played my violin…"

Sherlock shook her head. "The first person who really encouraged my detective work was John. "Everyone else…well you know about people's opinions of me."

"People can be stupid and misjudging."

"Especially my father. He hated that I became a detective…I remember last Christmas. Came in a sneered about my job and then my flat and then my friends…so I sent him out! I wish I had John's down to earth vocabulary."

"And John didn't say anything to him?" Irenaeus asked.

"John was standing their confused." Sherlock replied, laughing. "And later on that night or early hours of boxing day morning…he ate all the chocolates you gave me. Then again they were nice chocolates."

"Yes they were." Irenaeus replied.

Sherlock picked up her present for Irenaeus. "I'm sorry…I didn't know what to get the man who knows what he wants and strives for it."

Irenaeus opened up a box inside a gift. "Diamond cufflinks. I.A. I've been needing a new pair for ages. Thank you!" he told her.

He opened another box in the gift bag. "Diamond tie pins. Where did you get the money for these?"

"I had wealthy clients." Sherlock replied.

"Thank you." he replied.

He opened up a cube shape present and found a laptop inside. "This time choose another password."

Sherlock stood up and went go upstairs. "Where are you going?" he asked.

"To sleep…" she began.

Irenaeus grabbed her hand and walked Sherlock over to the cabinet. He opened it up and pulled out a large rectangular box. "Open it."

Sherlock opened the box to find her violin inside. Not a new violin. _Her_ violin. A tear slide down her cheek as she picked it up and rested it on her shoulder. She began playing 'We Wish You a Merry Christmas' and Irenaeus smiled. "Now you're back." he replied before kissing her forehead. "Apparently John gave it back to Mycroft and Mycroft sent it over on my request. I didn't pay for it but I made sure it got here safely."

"It's…nice." Sherlock replied before sitting it down. She had no idea what to say.

"Just don't play it in the early hours of the morning."

Sherlock laughed and wiped her tears away. "Why do you have to care so much about me?" she asked.

"Because brainy is the new sexy and you have brains." he replied. "I don't understand you at all and my sister likes you. So either you're the devil or I've met the right person. Question is how do you get along with my sister…people struggle."

"I love your sister. I really do!" Sherlock replied sincerely. "And I've really gone sentimental haven't I?"

"A bit. It's cute." he replied before hugging her. "I'll be back in a minute. I need to go and talk to Agata."

"OK." Sherlock replied.

* * *

Agata was in the middle of talking to Sara when Irenaeus knocked on her room door and opened it. "Here comes my brother…talk to you later. He's obviously pissed off at me about something."

She ended the call. "Why do you always assume the worst?" Irenaeus asked Agata.

"You're not pissed off at me?"

"No. I came to talk to you." he replied. "And it's with me not at me."

"I'm listening." she replied as she sat on the sofa she had in her room. Irenaeus sat beside her and turned to face her. "Agata…why didn't you tell me that you like art and fashion so much? I knew you liked to draw but…the way you were talking to Sherlock and the way you were looking…it must mean a lot to you."

Agata looked at him. "But you're good at math and stuff…" Agata began. "I am not good at math. I am half good at chemistry but that's when I'm studying with Sara all the time. We have a terrible substitute in just now and its' difficult to get help. I can't understand computing except to do email and stuff…"

"Agata I'm not asking you to be good at them. Just do your best." Irenaeus told her.

"You're not disappointed?" Agata asked.

"No. I couldn't be disappointed in you." Irenaeus replied sincerely causing Agata to smile and looked at the floor. "How far do you want to go in the world of art?"

"I want to study it at college. I want to maybe make clothes and satchels and accessories and stuff too…I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "No…I'm sorry…When it gets nearer the time. You can pick any college you want and study it…That's if you want."

Agata hugged him. "Thank you."

"Merry Christmas, Agata."

"You too. I really hate you, ya know."

"I know." Irenaeus replied.

* * *

Hope you all had a splendid Christmas!


	51. The Empty House Part 1

John fell back in his chair at Baker Street after finishing an all night shift at Barts. Since Sherlock's 'death' he had been working as a surgeon. It kept him busy. It wasn't as if he needed a lot of money though. Sherlock had left him more than a few grand before she went to Switzerland. He often wondered how much money she had, had. It was not something that interested her and the job at the hospital for him wasn't for money either. He had to keep busy. He met Mary at the hospital. She was a nurse who had been helping him in the operating room. She was very beautiful too: hazel eyes, red hair and she understood him and how much he had cared for Sherlock. Quite a few people fell in to the trap that Sherlock was his girlfriend but Mary understood different. They didn't talk much about Sherlock but if he mentioned her with deep sadness, there was no fuss made and she was an ear that listened.

Three years it had been since he had last seen the person who had been like a younger sister to him. He kept on telling himself that she'd be back. She was struggling or something or that she'd lost her memory but he knew Sherlock. She wasn't back. She was most probably dead. Mycroft would have found her if she wasn't.

He stood up and moved over to the sofa to lie and face the ceiling. The worst thing about the shift at Barts was that he had been paid off afterwards. Cutbacks. It was always cutbacks. That was the biggest problem when he went to work at Barts. Cutbacks for surgical instruments, cutbacks for materials, and cutbacks on electricity used. At least with Sherlock he only had two things to worry about, getting out of situations alive and getting her out of a situation alive.

"Hello love. Would you like a cuppa?" Mrs Hudson's voice asked him as she carried a few shopping bags in to the kitchen area. John sat up and turned to face the landlady. "Oh you don't half look tired, dear. You were never that terrible looking when you…" She stopped before she could finish. She didn't want to say Sherlock's name. It had been three years and her death still hurt Mrs Hudson. It still hurt John. And for a while John thought it had hurt Mycroft but he soon went back on as normal. Lestrade was devastated in a way. So was Mason at Barts. Anderson and Donovan were their usual selves. For some life went on as normal as if Sherlockina Holmes had never existed and for others like John and Mrs Hudson they had to walk about with a gaping hole in their hearts.

"I'm alright, Mrs Hudson. Nice morning isn't it?" John asked.

"Oh yes. I love spring time." Mrs Hudson replied before leaving the living room and descending the stairs to go to her own flat. Footsteps were heard shortly after it coming back up the way and John thought Mrs Hudson had forgotten something. When he looked up he swallowed at the real maker of the footsteps.

"Hello, John." he said softly. "Haven't seen you since…"

"Since the funeral?" John asked. "What the hell are you doing here, Mycroft?!"

Mycroft sat down and went to speak but John drew him a look. "You seem to be staying a while!" John pointed out.

"Do you know what day it is today, John?" Mycroft asked.

John thought for a moment. "May the tenth. Why?" John replied.

"It's my sister's birthday." Mycroft replied.

"Was." John replied. He felt angry that Mycroft had come to bring up Sherlock's birthday. It wasn't as if John had forgotten. He was never told. Why was Mycroft bringing it up three years later.

Mycroft smiled. "I was just passing by. I don't suppose you've noticed anything strange happening lately?"

"Strange?" John questioned. "I don't understand."

"Well, John. It's like this. An old friend and colleague of James Moriarty who has taken over the business so to say…is branching out. He has just begun to stabilise the network again."

John glared at Mycroft. If it wasn't bad enough he had brought up Sherlock, he was bringing up the man who had 'killed' her.

Mycroft suddenly checked his phone and his face fell. "Oh dear. I don't suppose you could turn the television on, John?"

John picked up the remote and switched it on.

* * *

Sherlock was downstairs in the kitchen in the early hours of the morning. She couldn't sleep. She had just made herself a cup of tea when she had an urge to turn on the television like she normally did if she wasn't sleeping. She couldn't believe how domesticated she'd become in that aspect and then her eyes widened. Without even turning it off she dropped the remote on the bunker and put the cup down.

* * *

When daylight came in the home of Irenaeus Adler there was no Sherlock lying beside him. "Sherlockina?" he asked, getting up. He made his way downstairs and found it silent. He knew Agata had been at a friend's house for a sleepover party. "Sherlockina?!" he called.

He walked in to the kitchen and found her cup on the bunker and then his eyes caught the television. He rewound it back to when she could have roughly gotten up and he swallowed. "Please tell me you've not went back, Sherlockina. You stupid woman!"

Irenaeus listened to the news.

_"All over the world we've been reports of massive bomb damage. There was an attack on the Pentagon just now. But in London, Tower Bridge was attack and similar bomb damage was made at a local hospital. Saint Barts. A hotel very close to the Reichenbach Falls in Switzerland was bombed. All of this happened at the exact same time. We're still receiving reports. There was only one message by the culprit. The initials SH and a message. I know. What or who is SH? The government are certainly keeping things under wraps for the moment."_

"Please tell me you didn't go back to London!" Irenaeus said over and over again to himself. "I knew this was going to happen!" His eyes widened. John was a surgeon at the hospital. Sherlock was probably not even thinking properly. He grabbed his cell and called Mycroft but he wasn't picking up.

"Damn it." he exclaimed.

* * *

"I could have been in that hospital, John but instead I was getting coffee." Mary uttered to John with a low voice. She constantly kept coming back to the scene as she struggled to come to grips with the fact she'd lost colleagues in there. John wrapped his arms around her and rubbed her back. "I was so lucky."

"I am so glad you're safe!" John said to her. He looked at Mycroft who was standing and observing the damage. Suddenly the British Government took out his phone to answer it.

"Mycroft…Now isn't a good time…You can't come over!...You never listen to anyone but yourself!...But John is fine!"

John's frowned his eyebrows. Why was Mycroft talking to someone about him?

"Get off the plane at Heathrow and get the next one back to New Jersey!...What message?...No I haven't watched the American news yet I have been too busy over here. They are still rescuing people…Listen to me you need to calm down…Oh for goodness sake you can't take on one network!...Why?...Just because you're clever does not give you reason…You're behaving like a child…"

John let go of Mary and made his way over to Mycroft. Mycroft frowned at him and John held out his hand. "Give me the phone."

Mycroft swallowed. "I'm afraid I can't do that, John."

"You can only be talking to one person with that tone of voice. Now give me the bloody phone!"

Mycroft handed it over to him. John put the phone to his ear and felt sick, happy, angry and a whole other wave of emotions as he heard the voice of the other person on the end. "I don't care about Moran. He's targeted John anyway and he knows now. I am taking him down!" he heard the voice at the other end say firmly.

"Sherlock you better have a bloody good reason for being alive!"

There was a long pause of silence and then the end of the phone call came. "She hung up on me!" John said to Mycroft, angrily. "Three years and not a damn word and she hung up on me!"

"That's because my phone ran out of battery." he heard a voice say. He turned around and saw Sherlock standing there, holding her phone for added affect. He clenched his fists. For the first time in his life he wanted to punch her regardless of what her gender was.

"John. Are you alright?" Mary asked him. John swallowed. He couldn't take it in.

"I think you should sit down John." Mycroft told him.

John marched forward towards Sherlock. "How dare you come back? Look at you with your fancy suit! You've obviously not been living the life I have had! Been happy while you were 'dead'. Bet you found it fun! You even have diamond earrings! What did I get? Your fucking funeral!"

"I'm sorry John but the earrings were a gift." Sherlock replied. "But don't think I was happy."

They were almost nose to nose. He was angry. He pushed her a little. "Don't you tell me you weren't happy! You didn't suffer like I did!"

"Trust me being alive was not my plan!" Sherlock replied. "So listen to me."

"John you should hear her out!" Mary said.

"John we'll get you a blanket." Mycroft spoke.

John pulled his arm back and then hit Sherlock in the nose. He immediately felt bad. "Sherlock…"

She got up and hit him back. "Don't you dare tell me how I felt! Don't you dare!"

John pushed and she landed on the ground. "Alright then. How did you feel?"

She used her leg to knock him down. "Sherlock that's enough!" Mycroft spoke.

"John you should stop." Mary intervened as John grabbed her and put his arms around her throat.

"I couldn't come back to you because I had to keep you safe. I was meant to be dead!" Sherlock tried to explain as she struggled with John.

"Meant to be? Why aren't you?" John replied as Sherlock elbowed him in the ribs.

"Someone saved me. Long story!" she replied standing up. "The point is…Moran is going to use you to get to me. I came back to help you."

Suddenly John stood up hugged her. "You're an absolute horrible bitch!" John told her.

"I'm sorry." Sherlock replied before hugging him back. It took John by surprise. There was warmth in it. She seemed a lot more human.

"I am still pissed at you!" John told her.

"I am pissed at you!"

"Good. Nothing has changed then." John said with a laugh.

Sherlock let go of John and walked up to Mycroft before hugging him too. That really shocked John and Mycroft. "Thank you, Mycroft." she told him.

"Irenaeus Adler. In case you're wondering John." Mycroft told the doctor.

"What about him?" John asked.

"Do we have to bring The Man up just now?" Sherlock asked, Mycroft.

"He's the one who saved her. They've been living together. She knows all about what you've been doing through your blog. Only making it fair."

Mycroft walked away to talk to a police constable. "You must be Mary." Sherlock said to Mary. "Sherlock."

They shook hands while Mary just shook her head, trying to understand it all. "John why don't you take Mary home and make her a cup of tea. She's in shock."

"You've only been back for not even three minutes and already I don't know what's going on!" John told her.

"Do keep up." Sherlock replied.

* * *

A/N I am so sorry for the long update wait. Big thanks to the usual people. You know who you all are.


	52. The Empty House Part 2

Sherlock stood and stared out of the window at Baker Street, like she had often done before Switzerland. The place was as it usually was, dull and ordinary and for some reason that made her happy. She was back at home. She heard the creak of a floorboard all of a sudden and she turned to face John.

"Is she still in shock?" Sherlock asked John.

John sat down on the sofa and clasped his hands as he took a deep breath before replying. "Well when someone who is a bit like a daughter or a niece to you suddenly comes back from years of being 'dead' then I am sure that is the natural reaction." John told her dryly. "Of course why would you care about that?"

"As I have told you all a million times, I had to stay dead and keep you all safe! I had to keep my best friend safe!"

There was silence suddenly as John looked away. Sherlock turned to armchair and walked over the coffee table to sit on it. She swallowed before speaking again. "I was not expecting to survive. I did die. But someone who thought they had to, saved my life."

"Adler, I presume?" John replied with a sarcastic cheerfulness. "Did he have a white horse as well?"

"I wanted to die, John. If could change back time then I would have made it so I did! If that would make you feel better."

John stood up, opinion raging anger. "Would that have made me feel better?! Would that have made me feel better?!" Sherlock put her head in her hand and sighed. "No it wouldn't have?! I got a taste of how life would be like without you and it...I missed you! I was so sad. I was so alone and you gave me so much. Then I lost you and I was alone again."

Sherlock stood up and walked to the mantelpiece. "Sherlock. You're a cold hearted sociopathic bitch! Or so you tried to make everyone else believe! I could see that you weren't! You did care and you did get hurt. You should know by now that you're the sister that I never had. I love Harry with all my heart but...we don't get along. It isn't just sibling rivalry. We are just not close, that's all."

Sherlock turned to face him as he continued to speak. "But you Sherlock are my sister! So in answer to your question if you really were dead I would not have liked it all that much! I am glad you're alive right now but I am just so severely pissed off at you!"

Sherlock frowned her eyebrows. "If Moran knew that I was still alive then why hasn't he tried to kill me, yet? You see that's bothering me? Maybe it's nothing and my mind is just a little rusty."

"Well you're going to have to figured that one out on your own because I am away to see Mary. Enjoy looking for Moran."

John left and Sherlock sighed before beginning to pace. "Even if I can take Moran down, then it will not get rid of the network." she spoke, before looking around. No one was there to hear her thoughts. She sat down and put her hands in a prayer shape before letting them touch her lips as she began to think. She sat like that until one in the morning before making her way up to her old room to rest. She lay down and closed her eyes. But all she could do was keep on thinking about everything, until she felt the bed dip beside her.

"You know if you keep on thinking the way you do then you'll get older that much quicker." a familiar voice commented. She opened her eyes and turned around to face who spoke with tired eyes that questioned the speaker's presence. "I know that look Sherlockina. Did you honestly think I was going to let you run all the way here on your own?"

"So you think I am incapable?" Sherlock replied.

"Of many things. Like leaving a note to say where you were going, thinking logically, not being stupid, not being pompous..."

"I didn't think when I ran..." began Sherlock.

"Oh I am sure you were thinking Sherlockina. You were thinking about all this trouble! I didn't even know if you were going to come back or not!"

Sherlock swallowed. "I don't know the answer to that question either." she replied, sadly.

"Well. If that's how it is..."

"If I was alive, yes but I don't see myself getting out of this one alive. You have risked everything coming here, Irenaeus. Agata..."

"Is safe. Unlike you Sherlock I think, about the people I am leaving behind." Irenaeus replied.

Sherlock went to get up but he grabbed her arm. "I am sorry I didn't mean it to come out like that. I was referring to not telling me you were leaving..."

She looked at him, almost ready to cry. "But the thing is you're right! When it comes to me you're always right."

"Maybe because I love you and sometimes you forget that!" Irenaeus replied.

"Maybe it's because I love people that makes me stop thinking about them when I leave behind."

"And maybe the fact that I could be the only person who could talk you in to not coming to London."

"Maybe that too." Sherlock replied.

* * *

In the morning Sherlock got up and went downstairs where she found Irenaeus speaking to John. She looked from one to the other. "Good morning darling." Irenaeus greeted before turning to John. "She hates it when I call her that."

Sherlock ignored them both and went to make coffee. "While you're there make John and I some will you, dear?" Irenaeus asked her.

"Oh thanks Sherlock that would be good. In fact make some for Mary because she'll be up soon." John added.

"Oh and Sherlock could you get my newspaper off the table for me. You know I like to read in the mornings while I sip my coffee."

Sherlock just nodded. "Oh and when you're done with the coffee you'll probably need to get some more milk and stuff for when you're making me my cereal." John informed her.

"Got it." Sherlock replied.

"Sherlock I left my tie pin upstairs."

"Yes I will get you it while the kettle is boiling." Sherlock replied.

"Kind of you." Irenaeus replied. "Get my watch while you're at it."

Sherlock left the living room and Irenaeus and John smirked to one another. "You see just how much she feels guilty?" Irenaeus asked.

"I can a little and I feel a little sorry but I am going to enjoy this."

"Just remember John that she was mentally broken for three years."

"She was mentally broken before that." John replied.

"True. But she actually gave up her armour and broke down. It was the worst thing ever."

John swallowed as Irenaeus continued. "It was saddening when your best friend dies. But it was just as bad for her. She knew she was alive but she couldn't see you because you could die. Think how that made her feel?"

Sherlock came back in and grabbed the newspaper from the table before handing the tie pin and newspaper to Irenaeus. "Where is my watch?" Irenaeus asked.

Sherlock went to say something but just left the room to go and get it instead. "So what's the entire deal with you two?" John asked.

"I think we're together and she somehow acknowledges that. She knows that I care about her and I think that she cares about me. But why wouldn't she?"

"Are you in love with her or yourself?" John asked.

"Both." he replied.

They sat for five minutes in silence. "Sherlockina, it's on the bedside cabinet!" Irenaeus called up.

"I know!" she replied. "I am just coming."

She came down a few minutes later, her eyes a little misty as she handed him his watch. "I will get you the coffee now."'

* * *

In the afternoon Sherlock went to see Mycroft. "Even if we do take down Moran there are more ready to take his place."

"He's bound to have a hard drive or a whole mainframe of all the people who work with and who worked for Moriarty. The problem is where?"

"Moran is going to try and get to you because he knows you're one of my most powerful chess pieces."

"And to get to me..."

"He will go for someone close to you. Very close to you."

"But you're my only living relative except my father and he isn't exactly close to me."

"Ah but who says it needs to be someone like a relative or a friend."

The door opened and Anthea stepped in with a file. "From Scotland Yard, sir." Anthea informed him. She turned to Sherlock.

"How are you?" Anthea asked Sherlock.

"Not dead." Sherlock replied.

"Yes I know. It was I that found you Harriet." Anthea replied before leaving.

Mycroft and Sherlock exchanged looks before both calling out in unison. "Anthea!"

Anthea made her way in. "Yes?" she asked.

* * *

A/N Sorry for the update wait.


	53. The Empty House Part 3

Anthea made her way in to her flat and dropped her bag on the floor, before switching on the light. "Good evening, Miss Amelia Anthea Barrows." she heard someone speak.

She let out a deep breath, and her heart began to race a little as she turned to the chair nearest the window to find the man she knew as Sebastian Moran, sitting and holding a gun with a silencer attached. She stared at the weapon for a moment.

"Oh relax, Amelia…or don't you prefer Anthea because Amelia was your mother's name? She died protecting you from a car didn't she?"

Anthea moved closer to him. "Relax, Anthea. I wouldn't dream of killing you." he told her before standing up and putting a hand on her shoulder. "You're much too beautiful for one and much too precious." He brushed a piece of her hair away from her eyes. "You see Anthea. You and I have both been extremely loyal to our bosses. But are they as loyal to us?"

"Are you trying to say Moriarty wasn't loyal to you?" Anthea asked, raising an eyebrow.

"That doesn't matter for now. For now, Anthea I need to talk to you. Mycroft is going to approach you soon, and tell you that I am going to target you. That's once I start threatening him. If anyone knows Mycroft Holmes well it's you Anthea. The sugar he puts in his tea, his coffee, when he's on a diet. All the small minor and trivial things but you know them and you get access to all the private information that he does. Maybe not officially but as a PA you're always there for him."

"What exactly do you want?" Anthea asked.

"I want you…" He began to circle her. "to help me."

"Why would I want to help you?" Anthe asked. "If I am as loyal as you say?"

Sebastian chuckled. "You really don't get it Anthea. You think I've come to offer you lots of money in exchange for you to spy on Mycroft Holmes so that I can kill his sister? Not at all. I can kill her anyway if I really wanted. No. It's much better than that."

"Oh. Then do tell me Mr Moran because I have had a long day and I would really like to just sit with a glass of wine."

"Don't let me stop your evening plans. In fact I'll have one too. Actually. You sit down and rest, Anthea and _I'll_ pour _you_ a glass of wine."

He went to walk on but he turned back around. "May I see your phone?" he asked, holding out his hand. Anthea hesitated before walking over to the door and fetching it out of her bag. "I don't want you recording this conversation or anything. Or even texting Mycroft once I leave. I'll know if you do. From now on your phone is out of service. Well not really to the outside world Anthea is getting on as normal but you can't tell anyone about me. Do you understand?"

He took out a phone charm for the phone and then handed it back to Anthea. "There's a little recording device in that. I'll know exactly what you say to him. If you even think about it telling him, I'll know."

"Does that mean if I do you'll kill me?" Anthea asked.

"I'd be more concerned about your five year old niece and your seven year old nephew. Angelina and James, isn't it?" he asked.

Anthea swallowed. "You are absolutely disgraceful!"

"It's my job." he replied. "Now…white wine or red wine?"

* * *

Sherlock ended her call with Mycroft and sighed. "What's wrong?" John asked her at the same time as Irenaeus did.

"Nothing that isn't my fault." Sherlock replied, quietly.

"Sherlock I've emailed you a questionnaire for Anthea for when this is over. I want her feedback on what she thinks of the contact lenses." Irenaeus spoke as he held his phone in his hands.

"Contact lenses?" John questioned.

"Oh they aren't ordinary contact lenses. They are in fact one of my greatest investments and I think I'll sell them to every government agency. They are a constant live camera feed with a fifty two week battery life and…"

"In other words, John…" interrupted Sherlock. "It's our way with communicating with Anthea. Knowing everything that's going. We can even send her text messages and they'll appear in front of her eyes. Sebastian thinks she doesn't have anyone but she has. We're with her the whole time."

"Think how many sales I'll make from this." Irenaeus spoke.

"Irenaeus…really does it matter? You're already a millionaire" Sherlock snapped.

"It's not about the money. It's about…"

John looked from Sherlock to Irenaeus and tried not to laugh. "If you even give me your speech again…"

"Okay. I'm sorry. You're stressed out." he replied.

She went to speak again but he interrupted. "By the way Sherlock I reached billionaire status a long time ago. I'm not a millionaire."

"John, I think you should give Mary a set." Sherlock spoke. "I mean…Moran might try and target you too and he knows Mary is someone special to you."

"Thanks." John replied. "So where is Moran just now?"

"He's with Anthea." Sherlock replied. "He just threatened  
her niece and nephew." Sherlock said, with gritted teeth.

"You're acting like their lives mean something to you personally." John told her.

"He's a smug bastard and he knows if anything happens to that it'll get back to me. Don't you see, John? This is all my fault as it! He knows it!"

"I don't think that it's your fault. It's Moriarty's. He is the one who sent Moran on this…whole…mission." John replied.

"I'm going to go and call and Agata." Irenaeus told them before walking out of the living room. Sherlock took her chair back which Irenaeus had been sitting on.

"Maybe if I had died in the first place then…"

"Sherlock would you stop this? Please? Please just stop this. It isn't your fault and you need stop blaming yourself. Right now people are dying. Caring about them isn't going to do anything! But you can because you're brilliant! Now stop Moran. I don't know how you're going to do it but stop him."

"I think you should go in to protective care, John. I'm sure Irenaeus could provide some safe house in the wilderness and…"

"I'm not leaving." John replied. "You're not leaving me out of this, this time."

"You could be killed, John and you're failing to see that!"

"Well you could!" John replied.

"But I don't fail to see that."

"Who said I fail to see that?"

Sherlock stood up and walked to the window. "I mean…what was the point of jumping down to my supposed death to protect you if this is what happens?"

"Maybe that's why you survived. Because you need to be here now. Maybe Moran is up to more than just wanting to kill you."

"I am thinking the exact same thing myself." Sherlock told, John. "I mean if he really wanted, right now. We'd be dead. Bomb in this house, sniper fire…I mean it's not as if we're exactly laying low."

"Yet he bombed the hospital and tried to kill me."

"John you weren't in the hospital though."

"I was here."

"What if he knew that? He sent me the message didn't he? He needed me here, in London. But why?"

"Maybe he needs you to help him with something too?"

"Or he's going to target someone close to me."

"Who?" John asked.

The door opened. "Agata sends her love." Irenaeus spoke and John and Sherlock turned to him.

"Go! Go now!" Sherlock spoke. "Just find Agata and go."

"We're not starting this conversation again are we?" Irenaeus asked.

"Don't you see she's in danger?!" Sherlock asked him, her desperation showing in his eyes.

"No she's not because at this moment in time she is on an MI6 private jet over here and then she's going in to a very high classes witness protection programme that I'm paying for myself. She'll run up a high bill probably but that's Agata for you and if she wants a million pounds worth of ice cream then she'll have it."

"He's going to threaten her." Sherlock replied, standing up and putting throwing her arms around. "I can't ask you to stand and take that."

"You're not asking me to stand and take that." Irenaeus replied.

"But he wants you for something and he'll…"

"Sherlock. I'm a high class business man in New York. Do you know how many times people have threatened Agata to get money? But if I don't keep my cool then she gets hurt."

He walked over and put a hand on her shoulder. "It'll be okay and besides if he needs me I'm highly flattered. It means I'm great." Sherlock drew him a look and he brushed her hair from her eyes. "It'll be fine."

"What would Moran want from him though?" John asked.

"Well there's probably a list of possibilities." Irenaeus replied as he turned around to face John. "A very very long list."

"And John doesn't need to hear them." Do you think you could put the contacts on in case he makes contact with you."

"Absolute." Irenaeus replied. "This is actually quite fun."

"Fun?" Sherlock asked, shocked. "What's fun about it?"

"Seeing you at your best." he replied before leaving the living room to go upstairs.

"He's been good for you." John pointed out.

"Hmm?" she asked turning away and looking at the bookshelf.

"Oh don't do that, I'm looking at something intently routine because John is embarrassing me."

"Pardon?" Sherlock asked as she walked over, and ran her hand along the books.

"Just remember. John Hamish Watson. If it's a boy." John replied.

Sherlock turned around abruptly. "Shut up, John!"

"Remember that time in Devon?" John asked.

Sherlock snickered. "Oh dear, God please don't bring that up again."

"You were sulking as well."

"I wasn't sulking!"

"I think you were missing him!" John told her.

"I was not!" Sherlock replied.

"You fancied him from the moment you met him I reckon." John continued to tease.

"What about you and Mary? You going to marry her?" Sherlock asked.

"What about Irenaeus are you going to marry him?" John asked.

"I don't fancy changing my surname." Sherlock replied.

"Did he ever give you, your purple phone back?" John asked.

"No. He didn't. I don't know where it is." Sherlock replied. "I'll find it one day."

"Maybe he didn't give it to you because it might upset you. All your old conversations with me were on that phone."

"I hadn't thought of that." Sherlock replied with a swallow.

"Well I admire your choice in a man. You'll never be poor."

"I could acquire money on my own and in large amounts if I wanted to." Sherlock replied to John.

"I'm sure you could."

"Just have to take a boring case or two and I'm rich."

"Sherlock. Okay. I get it. It's not about the money. But still…"

"John. Shut up!"

"Am I embarrassing you again?" John asked, as he picked up a newspaper.

"As a matter of fact you are!"

"Good!" John replied. "Very good!"


	54. The Empty House Part 4

John sat on the sofa and looked at Sherlock who was quietly looking in to space. Her hands were in her pyramid shape but she wasn't entirely focused in her mind palace. It was obvious with the way she kept turning her mobile in her hands and biting her lip. Everything was so quickly going to how it used to be – with Sherlock hiding her worry; or trying to at least.

"What's bothering you?" John asked, quietly and swallowing. He was just tired of seeing her destroy herself, internally.

"In all honesty…" Sherlock began. Then she stopped and didn't continue and six minutes passed of more silence.

"JUST TELL ME SHERLOCK!" John screamed, before standing up. "It kills me just watching you! It killed me before Moriarty! And it's killing me now!"

She looked up to John and a tear fell down her cheek. "I'm tired of being vulnerable. I just want to go back to being Sherlock and…not having to be someone's enemy! I'm weak! I've lied to you, John! I always…made you think I was strong and I wasn't…"

"No. You're strong Sherlock…you're just an idiot! An absolute idiot!" John replied. "Bravery and stupidity are practically the same thing. So you're brave. That takes a strong mind to jump off a waterfall! Come back from it all! You're brilliant Sherlock. You're just too brilliant. Maybe we need you to keep on being brilliant but please…please don't have a nervous breakdown right now. I need you, Sherlock. I really need you to fix it."

"_You_ need _me?" _Sherlock asked shocked. "Why?"

"Because I was so alone and I owe you so much! Because you're the only who can probably fix this now! Because I missed you so much! Because you're my sister. Do we have to go through this again?"

John's phone rang, breaking the conversation and he answered it after realising it was from Mycroft.

"John is that you?" Mycroft asked, sounding worried.

"Yes; it's me." John replied, noting Mycroft's tone. It was concerning him. He didn't like it.

"Are you in the room with Sherlockina?" Mycroft inquired, taking a swallow.

"Yeah." John replied hesitantly

"Your first mission then John is to leave the room and make sure she doesn't follow you." Mycroft replied, gravely. "Please. It's important."

"Why?"

"Don't ask questions." Mycroft said in reply.

Sherlock looked at John and frowned her eyebrows while John she watched him swallow. "I'll be a moment. It's Mary. Couple stuff." John said, before leaving the room.

Sherlock nodded and then turned to her own mobile. She was expecting a call from Irenaeus. He still had not phoned yet. He had gone out for a while and it wasn't like him to not call her. What was bothering her was that he never said why.

"Please be just worried about Agata and you've gone for a walk." she pleaded to herself.

* * *

John left Baker Street and went down in to the café below. "OK, Mycroft I am out."

"It's too risky to have her follow you." Mycroft replied. "I don't know what I'm going to do if she finds out. One more horrible event and she might even relapse."

"What do you mean?" John asked. "Anthea…"

"As you know John we've been monitoring the people wearing those contact lenses…Irenaeus Adler was one of them."

"Please tell me the was…"

"John…I need you to look after my sister…"

"NO. No, Mycroft! I need you to tell me what happened? Is he…"

"He's still alive but he's in hospital. If you tell Sherlock she's going to blame herself…"

"If I don't she's going to be waiting up there for him to come in. Don't you see that she loves him? I mean…"

"I know, which is why I'm frightened for her, John!"

"What are we going to do? We can't lie to her!" John replied. "What did Moran want with Irenaeus?"

"Let me worry about that just now. I need you to look after my sister."

"No. Tell me! Because if you don't then _my _sister will be in the dark and she'll do something stupid."

"I don't know what else to do, John!"

"What's wrong with him?" John asked with a swallow.

"He's been shot three times. Twice in the abdomen and once in the chest, narrowly missing his heart."

"That's more of a personal statement than a random killing attempt." John replied.

"Yes. Moran's messing with her mind."

"I don't think there's much left of it!" John replied. "We can't keep this back from her."

"I'm afraid we don't have no other choice! You didn't see her when we were younger John. She became so depressed that she was self-harming and using drugs. I don't want to have to see that happening again!"

"She needs him, Mycroft."

"Which is why she's not going to find out he's hurt." Mycroft replied.

"You've not got any confidence in her you know that! What makes you think she'll go back?"

"I don't know, John. Maybe I am just concerned about her!"

* * *

Sherlock was pacing up and down when John came back in. He couldn't walk in with a straight face, not after everything he found out. Mycroft left the ball in his court to decide.

"What's happened?" she asked right away, reading his expression. "Don't lie to me because I'll know."

"That wasn't Mary…"John began.

"I've gathered that, considering Mary called me just now and asked if you were okay because she couldn't get through to you."

"It was Mycroft." John replied, swallowing.

"I guessed that because he wasn't answering my phone calls and he always does if I do decide to call him."

"Sherlock…"

"Is he going to be okay?" she asked him.

John blinked and then took a deep breath as he watched Sherlock's whole body begin to shake, while she tried to keep the last of what was there together. Of course she had already worked it out. He had told Mycroft that. John didn't know what to do. Should he hug her and comfort her? Or should he take her to Irenaeus? He didn't even know if he could answer the question she'd just asked.

"Sherlock I'm so sorry!"

"What happened?"

"Moran got to him. Got him to programme something and when he was done…He shot him. Three times."

"OK. Well…he's certainly making it clear that he's becoming unstoppable. So what we should do first, John…is get the video footage from the contact lenses and find out what he programmed. The Man would most likely do some sort of security to resolve any issues imposed by Moran's plans…Then we let Moran go through with them."

"Sherlock…"

"What?" she asked and John realised she was acting like nothing bad had happened. And he knew it wasn't because she didn't care but because she cared so much that it was hurting her.

"I'll phone Mary first and then we'll go and see Mycroft." John replied. "Get our stories up to date."

"OK. Good." Sherlock replied.


	55. The Empty House Part 5

"He is targeting the US secret service." Mycroft explained to Sherlock and John.

Sherlock stood up. "What exactly is he doing? Why did he need The Man?" She walked over to the window and folded her arms. John turned and looked at Mycroft.

"The program which is on a single USB drive is meant to permanently erase every defence system in place and launch an attack on us in Britain. We think he wants Britain and US to launch at each other in short. No missile, no nuclear weapon, no submarine or anything will be safe. It will leave the everyone vulnerable."

"Why does he want to do that?" Sherlock asked, turning around.

"Why?" Mycroft questioned as he shot her a questioning glance.

"Well come on! You don't just make such a chaotic attack like that? He's taking down the US which will...his superiors. They were his superiors! He was a US marine...These marine people... Semper Fidelis! They are loyal; they don't just give up on their government."

"Sometimes they do." Mycroft replied.

"You heard what he said to Anthea though; you were one of the first to hear him say to Anthea...You and I have both been extremely loyal to our bosses. But are they as loyal to us?...What if he wasn't on about Moriarty? What if the US..."

"Part of his file was censored." explained Mycroft.

"Get it uncensored." replied Sherlock. "He's up to something for a reason!"

"Does the reason matter?" Mycroft asked. "What matters is that our sister agency is in danger."

Sherlock walked over to Mycroft's desk and leaned down. "It matters, Mycroft because every piece of data is needed. To understand the intentions of Sebastian Moran and perhaps we'll stop whatever he is up to. I mean…come on! Are you just as boring as everyone else? If we know why, we'll get a better sense of his mind. Then we can stop the bastard for all eternity."

"Sherlock. I tried. My hands are tied. Do you not think that perhaps I had the same idea? It's classified! There's nothing more that I can do." Mycroft told her, firmly but quietly.

She turned around and paced. John looked over to Mycroft, both of them exchanging worried glances. Sherlock made her way over to the door. "You know what, he's got what he wanted. Might as well leave it at that. He's the problem of the US now. Or the CIA or whatever…I don't care anymore."

"Sherlockina." Mycroft uttered, exasperated.

"I give up trying to please everybody. It wouldn't matter whether I changed for the better or the worst or whatever I would never be able to do anything right. I don't even care anymore! Just…have fun talking to the CIA and 'trying' to get them to listen to you about Moran. He's not interested in John obviously or Mrs Hudson or Lestrade. Not even me!"

"Anthea and I have arranged to go over there to the Pentagon and have a meeting there. Moran hasn't bothered her yet…"

"Why would he want Anthea?" asked Sherlock. "Why would he still need her…oh! Because you're going to the Pentagon and you're going in with Anthea."

* * *

"Anthea kindly put in Mycroft's password to this please. Britain starting a nuclear war with the US. Absolutely fabulous, don't you think?" Moran asked Mycroft was was sitting in his chair, as he looked around at the different US marines, CIA agents and FBI agents in the room. "But since the security for this place has all been shut down. The President will have no idea."

"It's why you needed Moriarty isn't it? To get you all this power." Mycroft stated.

"Anthea, dear. Type in the password. Remember your niece and nephew. Remember your boss."

Anthea types in the username and password. "Sorry, sir." she apologised to Mycroft.

Sebastian Moran looked at the screen after Anthea typed the correct login in. At first his face showed nothing more than a smile, but suddenly the realisation of what was going on suddenly dawned on in him as he saw his whole plan come crushing down on him within one instant. It was just one word that told him something had gone wrong. Just one simple word that was over used in society. **Downloading**.

Anthea took a step back and went back to her seat. Mycroft smiled. He had trusted his sister's judgement that if they let Moran do everything to plan; it would fail because Irenaeus Adler never let anyone beat him. If he did it was because they were meant to believe that. Sherlock had obviously gone far if she could trust one _man _to prevent such devastation.

"That is the files on everyone in the network. How on earth?!" Moran yelled.

The Marine's in the room pulled out their hand guns, since there was no threat that held them from acting. "Mr Holmes. You and your PA should leave. We'll deal with him!" one of them said.

* * *

One Week Later

"The network's stopped?" John asked in disbelief. "So there's no more threat to Mary or Sherlock?"

Mycroft smiled. "None. Except perhaps for Sherlock she may be a threat to herself. Has she went to see, Irenaeus Adler yet?"

"No." John replied, concerned. "She hasn't."

* * *

Irenaeus stood up and smiled to see Agata. "Hello."

That was when she burst in to tears and hugged her brother. "I promise I won't shout at you or make fun of you for a long time." she promised him.

"I'm absolutley fine. Have you seen Sherlock?" he asked.

"Sherlock told me what happened. But she said she can't come in to talk to you because she's very sorry that you're hurt because of her."

"Did she?" Irenaeus asked. "Well tell her I need to see her because I want to talk to her."

* * *

Irenaeus lay awake that night, struggling to sleep. He'd gotten used to Sherlock being there: the smell of her perfume, the scent of the shampoo in her hair and then there was the way she would tightly hold on to her pillow at night as she slept on it. He got so used to falling asleep, watching her do that that he couldn't sleep without her there. He turned around and faced the wall, trying to get back to sleep. That was when he felt the bed dip with extra weight and he turned around to see Sherlock.

"Sherlockina, where have you been?" he asked.

"I'm sorry. I never meant for you to get hurt. I was worried about you the whole time." Sherlock replied.

"Sherlockina; I'm so very flattered." he told her, putting his hand on her cheek.

"Are you in pain?" she asked. He shook his head. "You were the last person I wanted hurt. I love you."

"I'm flattered. Also relived because I love you too! The very fact Moran is defeated, tells me you trusted me."

"I've always trusted you even though I can't...does that make sense?" she asked.

"Not one bit." he replied. "That's just you though."

She half sighed, half laughed and then let her head hit the pillow. "Don't tell me you have private health care over here too." she said to him.

"Yes I do. Hence the double bed. Goodnight, darling."

"Goodnight, Man and if you ever calling me darling again I will be forced to take drastic measures."

"How long are you going to put up with me?" she asked a little while later.

"Forever." he replied. "Providing you don't do something stupid and kill yourself."

"I promise that I'll not do anything too stupid."

"Funny enough I do not believe that." she heard him reply. She chuckled.

* * *

"So this is where you've been staying while you've been dead?" John asked as he looked about, Irenaeus' home in New Jersey. "Wow."

"John are you alright?" Mary asked him when she saw her boyfriend gobsmacked.

"Yes. I'm fine." John replied. "Just fine."

"You're giving up being a detective?" Mary asked Sherlock.

"Absolutely not. I'm opening up here. As a consultant to the FBI. They were especially happy with my services to them as Harriet Baker." she replied with a smirk.

"So now there going to be happy with your skills as Sherlock Holmes?" John asked.

"Soon to be Sherlock Adler-Holmes. With a hyphen." she replied.

"You do realise that if you marry him and he dies you could get all of this..."

"Half of it. The other half goes to Agata." Sherlock replied. "Let's not joke about dying."

"Sorry." John replied.

Sherlock smiled. Finally she could be herself.

THE END

* * *

A/N I admit, probably not my best of work but that's ending.

I want to say thanks to all of you who've stuck by this. A big thanks to JaneEyre0, Nataly Skypot, IberisGalloway, Madam Boast Alot and PushToShove.


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